Epic among the Stars: Agressive Negotiations
by GalacticaCAG
Summary: Part II of the saga where to universes collide. Rated Teen for safety, but shouldn't be bad. Warning: Character Death! Reviews are appreciated from all, so R&R please. Anonymous reviews allowed! RE-POSTED, SAME TITLE!
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Star Wars or Battlestar**_** Galactica**_

**Chapter One**

**GFFA Frigate **_**Journeyman**_

_Journeyman _dropped out of hyperspace after the final lightspeed jump into the known Galaxy. There was a buzz of excitement amongst the crew; in one more jump, their four-month journey would be at an end. After their ordeal, most were ready to go home, wherever in the Galaxy that might be.

Jacen and Tahiri entered to F.O.B. and found it strangely occupied. A lone figure sat in the front row, apparently entranced by the twinkling stars above. He seemed not to register the two Jedi's presence at all, but it was clear to them that he was in emotional turmoil. Their eyes meeting, they decided to intervene.

Ever light-footed, he remained completely oblivious to their approach, his mind a trillion miles away, even as they came up beside him. After a minute without acknowledgement, Tahiri made the leap. "Ensign Osso is it?" she ventured.

The man gave a violent jerk, his eyes flashing about before coming to rest on the two of them or, more specifically, the lightsabers hooked to their belts. He immediately shot to his feet, "Uh, yes ma'am. If you need the room, I was just leaving…"

He began to make a bee-line for the door before Jacen lay a gentle, restraining, hand on his arm, "That's not necessary, Ensign. Please sit back down."

In confusion, he hesitantly sank into his seat, as the Jedi did the same to his right.

Almost as an afterthought, Jacen turned back to Saul, "And technically we're not your superior officers, so I'm Jacen and this is Tahiri." Tahiri gave him a friendly little wave.

Still confused, but somewhat mollified, Saul nodded. "In that case, I'm Saul." He extended his hand to each in turn before returning his gaze to the void.

After a long moment, Tahiri began to work her way to the topic at hand, taking cues from the Force. "So, where are you from Saul?"

At first, it appeared as though he didn't hear her, but slowly his hand rose to point at a very precise star cluster. "Hapes," he said simply.

The mere mention of the planet evoked a pleasant churn in Jacen's stomach as his mind turned to the beautiful woman and little girl that awaited him there… Abruptly, he forced his mind to return to the present: It would not do for his mind to wander just now.

Oblivious to Jacen's musings, Saul continued on, surprising even himself with his divulgence, "Yeah. I've got my wife and son waiting for me when I get home."

Jacen once more forced himself to remain in the now. Fortunately, Tahiri saved him from answering, delving to the heart of the matter. "Is something wrong, something back home? You seem…distressed," she finished carefully. She pursed her lips, "I apologize if I'm prying."

He looked at her in surprise, fidgeting uncomfortably. "You're not prying, no. Its just…When the Cylons boarded us, they tore us apart. I saw so much death, so many friends dead and dying while somehow I remained unharmed."

"I can see how difficult that must have been…"

"But it's not just that," he continued, cutting her off mid-sentence. "I mean, it _should_ be the core of it, but there's something more." He visibly struggled with how to explain. Finally, "Back home on Hapes, men are widely considered second-class citizens, seen as little more than breeding stock by many. It was the world I grew up in, never really knowing anything else, so I never questioned it…"

"Until now," Jacen finished for him.

"Until now," he agreed. "Things truly have improved between the genders with the last two Queen Mothers. I mean, I wouldn't be on this ship if it hadn't, but still there are those who cling to their prejudice. The inequalites back home never really struck me, even when I joined the expedition, until the attack. Now don't get me wrong, my Sola is wonderful and I love my planet, but things aren't as they should be. When the Cylons boarded us, I almost died and maybe that opened my eyes a little. During that whole ordeal, what struck me most was the _equality_ and _cohesion_ of the Colonial Marines. They fought side-by-side, trusting each other completely. That…that has been weighing on my mind greatly ever since."

Jacen nodded, understanding completely. "You witnessed a camaraderie among the Marines that you had never encountered before. It must have been a…_alluring_ concept."

Saul's eyes snapped to him for the first time since the beginning of their conversation, "Yes! That's it exactly! I mean, I fought alongside those guys, earned their respect. I suppose I've _seen_ equality before, but this seemed somehow deeper." He said this almost as a confession. When the two nodded in understanding, his inner-turmoil began to die.

"Anyway, I'll be home soon enough. I'll be going directly from Coroucant to Hapes, see my wife and kid again…" he trailed of contentedly, silence pervading until the intercom announced the final jump as the stars blurred. No sooner had they jumped, Jacen and Tahiri were jerked from their respective reveries to rapt attention. Something terrible was happening.

Something that could bode ill for them all.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**, BSR-82**

The mammoth warship flashed into existence one-hundred and fifty thousand clicks out from the orbital stations of Coroucant, _Journeyman_ coming out of hyperspace on the larger vessel's port side.

"Jump complete, Admiral," Colonel Thomas Reilly announced in his lilting Irish brogue.

"Very good, Colonel. Can you get me a picture from the bow cameras?" replied newly-minted Vice Admiral Benjamin Stratis, standing beside the CIC's central DRADIS console.

"Aye, sir," confirmed Reilly as he tapped a few keys, causing camera feed to appear on one of the central consoles. To say the least, it wasn't anything he expected.

"Holy Frak…" breathed Commander Emily Clark, and she wasn't awed by the planet-sized city. Her description, however, was apt: A chaotic panorama wasunfolding before them.

Dozens of warships were maneuvering about each other in orbit, streaks of red and green lancing out between them. Some of these bolts of lethal energy were absorbed by shields, others ripping into hulls.

Stratis was in motion instantly, "Action Stations! Set Condition One aboard ship!" His head whipped the other direction to face the comm officer, "Get Shaw on the line now!"

Seconds later, Prince was motioning for him to pick up the phone, which he snatched from its base, "Captain Shaw," he began, his voice icy calm laced with underlying menace. "What the hell is going on?"

Shaws voice was muffled and distorted by the wireless, but came promptly. "We're just as baffled as you are, Admiral. By what we've been able to piece together from comm chatter and news reports, it looks like we just jumped into a civil war," Shaw's voice was similarly calm, but incredulity was evident. Both sides are leaving us alone for now, but that could change. General Bel Iblis has taken command of the Loyalist forces, but is outnumbered and being overrun. We're sending you a sensor update now."

Shaw fell silent and the XO softly announced the receipt of a sensor package. The Loyalists were tagged in blue, their foes in red. The Loyalists were outnumbered two-to-one and giving ground, clustered around their flagship, the _Peregrine_.

Shaw spoke again, with a note of finality, "Admiral Stratis, we'll be joining _Peregrine. _We can't get through to the General at this time, but we know where our loyalties lie. Good luck." The line went dead and Ben's eyes traveled to the DRADIS screen where the _Journeyman_ was accelerating towards the Loyalist contingent, its forward turbolasers already opening fire.

"Hell," Stratis hissed, running a hand through his hair in irritation beforefinally appearing to reach some decision. He turned to his executive officer, "We've got to make contact with this Bel Iblis. Alert Sparta's blue flight to prepare to launch." She opened her mouth to protest, but Ben cut her off before she had spoken a word, "No debate. You have the con," he said grimly before sweeping from CIC.

Still in shock, she turned uncertainly to the CIC crew who waited expectantly. This seemed to propel Emily into action. "Bow up one quarter and bring us about to heading point two-one-five degrees. All hands brace for battle maneuvers."

_Author's Note:__ I'm baaaack! Well, I just throw you into the action right away this time. Nevertheless, I feel pretty good about this chapter, but let me know what you think about it (Especially the Colonial stuff) Anyway, this first chapter ended up being shorter than planned because of staggered and sparse typing time, but I promise a longer one next week. Normally it would be this weekend, but my family's going camping, a.k.a NO COMPUTER._

_Anyway, it looks like we'll be seeing Commander Clark in command for the first time as well as see Stratis behind the controls of a Mk. VIII. Should be interesting. _

_I have a quick request though, for those of you who haven't responded to the Questionnaire's Opinions section- please do!_

_Please R&R and thanks for reading,_

_-The CAG_


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_** or Star Wars**

**-Later on, a ship named an Albatross will appear. This is a smaller, faster version of a Raptor that is also utilized as a bomber by the Colonials (The Raptor is still in use, though). All rights to this ship belong to Steel Scale**

**Chapter Two**

**Battlestar**_** Ranger**_**, BSR-82; Hanger Deck.**

Ben practically slid down the steep stairs leading down to the flight deck in his haste- time was of the essence. Fortunately, the deck gang had been forewarned of his coming and the crew chief met him at the base of the stairs, flight suit in hand.

Chief Petty Officer Nicholas Tyrol fell in beside the Admiral as he pulled on his suit, remaining silent until he handed the Admiral his helmet from atop the ladder and gained his full attention. "All systems nominal, sir. You're running hot with a full load of ammo and six Interceptor missiles."

"Thanks." His helmet hissed as it and the flight suit sealed, "Get me in the tube, Chief."

"You got it, Admiral." He rapidly descended the withdrawing ladder as Ben reached forward and pulled back his canopy.

Outside the cockpit, Stratis could now see a mutely shouting Tyrol as his crew pushed the Mk. VIII into its launch tube. In the tube and to his right, the launch officer was at his station, droning through the pre-flight checklist. "Interval…check. Thrust positive. Mag cat ready…" He thumbed the button to open the launch tube to space and the air whooshed out, "Tube door open and good luck."

He hit the thrusters and rocketed out of the tube, feeling the familiar thrill of flight. "Blue flight, Gladius," he commed, using his old callsign. "Form up with me." His four escorts immediately fell into formation around him after launching. "Gentlemen," he began, but was immediately cut off.

"And ladies!" one of his female cohorts piped in.

"And ladies," he agreed, easily sliding into the relaxed discipline of a Viper squadron. "Our objective is the warship _Peregrine_. To get there we will be flying through the combat zone. Standing orders are not to fire unless fired upon, but do not hesitate to defend yourselves. We want to be as inconspicuous as possible. Acknowledged?"

A chorus of affirmatives were his reply and the pilots stayed on him as he led them through the battlefield. The space above Coroucant was literally filled with hundreds of wheeling dogfights, through which the Colonials were forced weave and dodge and full of debris, EV pilots, and bodies. It was a miracle they made it as far as they did without incident.

As the flight neared _Pergrine_, a pair of fighters dropped onto their six and opened fire. Dodging coherent beams of energy, a pair of Vipers broke off and engaged the fighters, leading them away from the other three as they swept into the fighter bay and set down.

No sooner had he un-strapped was his fighter surrounded by a dozen heavily armed soldiers. A quick glance confirmed that his fellow pilots had been similarly welcomed. He pushed forward the canopy and stood slowly, keeping his hands in plain sight. As the guards' weapons snapped up, he hurriedly called down, "Hold your fire! Hold your fire! We're friendlies." When the blasters didn't fry him, he continued more slowly, "We're just here to speak to General Bel Iblis."

One who seemed to be an officer and in charge revealed himself. "And why do _you_ need to see the General?" The man replied warily, eying their strange fighters and dress, "You could be assassins sent here to kill the General."

The man's suspicious attitude immediately annoyed Ben, who felt that such delay and trifling had little place while there was a battle to be fought. "Yeah, and I could be the frakkin' pizza delivery guy! But I happen to be the guy whose here to save your collective asses! Now, you can take me to see the General or you can chuck us in the brig. What's it gonna be?" Ben rarely let his temper show, but right now he had no time for delay. He was banking that he would manage to intimidate the man enough to achieve his goal.

His outburst had the weight of command behind it and the officer, apparently green, was sufficiently cowed. "Alright. Um…why don't you come down here and pass me your weapon? Then we can talk."

Having achieved his ends, Ben's allowed his irritation to dissipate. Anger may not be subtle, but used properly it could be very effective. Calmly he jumped down from his Viper to the deck. He slowly and deliberately unsnapped his holster and presented his pistol butt first to the officer.

Accepting the gun and seeing that similar events were playing themselves out at the other fighters, the junior officer ordered his men to lower their weapons. "Very well," he said, apparently reaching a difficult decision. "We'll take you up there, but I can't guarantee he'll talk to you. There's a battle going on, you know."

Ben wasn't at all worried. "Oh, I think he'll want to talk with me. I think it'd be well worth his time."

**Bridge of the **_**Peregrine**_

"Order the _Mon Termada_ to shift her fire to that Star Destroyer working around our flank!" Garm Bel Iblis spun in his command chair as he desperately tried to hold the failing perimeter over the Jedi Temple, "Order Arrow and Fireball squadrons to escort the next wave of Jedi shuttles to the transport. Keep those GAG fighters back!" There were endless variables to account for in this battle, far too many for one man to track and counter- yet if he missed one, people died. It was the weight of command, so he trudged on.

Six hours ago, he and the two available battle groups from the Second Fleet had arrived just in time to save the Jedi Temple from being bombed to oblivion; now he was facing the very same fate as two enemy fleets gutted his own.

The bridge door swished open and his attention was momentarily garnered by a young lieutenant. He seemed to hesitate, which Bel Iblis had no patience for at the moment. "What is it lieutenant?" he snapped.

"Um, General? We have a man outside… he wants to speak with you and..."

"Lieutenant, I don't have time for this. This isn't sithing visiting hour! I'll see to him when the battle is over…if we survive that long! Which we won't if you don't let me get back to work!"

The man looked completely overwhelmed, yet somehow, he didn't back down. "Sir, he said you would say that. But he asks that you look on the long- range sensors and you'll see a large ship standing out of the fight. He said you'd want to talk to him then."

If only to get the junior officer out of his way, he called up the sensor data onto his console…and did a double take: Large was an understatement- the ship was just a hair smaller than a Super Star Destroyer. The lieutenant looked to him expectantly, with not a small amount of apprehension- the irritation of the General could cost him his rank. Bel Iblis looked him in the eye,

"Get that man in here."

**Bridge of the **_**Peregrine**_

Ben was not surprised in the least when the lieutenant ushered him onto the bridge or when found him face-to-face with General Bel Iblis. Bel Ibliswas an aged man with pure white hair, but looked surprisingly fit for his age.

Taking in the tactical situation through the viewport, he deemed it best to dispense with the formalities, "General, I take it you have seen my ship?"

"I have, else you would not be here. Nevertheless, be quick about it- I've got a battle to run here."

Ben took his bluntness in stride, "Captain Arthur Shaw of the _Journeyman_ exploration frigate has convinced me to intervene on your side. Where do you want us?"

Bel Iblis seemed surprised at his brief discourse, but gratified nonetheless. "If I could have you come in and stabilize our right flank, it may give us the time we need to finish our evacuation and withdraw."

"Evacuation?"

"The Jedi Temple has been attacked and Master Skywalker is evacuating his people from the surface."

Stratis looked a bit confused, but did not question him. "Have you got a comm station I can use?"

Bel Iblis quickly made one available. Stratis opened a line to his ship and relayed his orders before looking once more to Garm. "You can contact us over that channel. I've got to get back to my ship, so if you'll give me and my pilots clearance, we can go."

He didn't even wait for an answer before sweeping from the bridge, past the bemused guards who made no attempt to stand in his way.

Bel Iblis turned back to the battle and spied the large vessel coming into view. Barreling towards its objective, its forward batteries opened fire.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger,**_** BSR-82; ****CIC.**

Instantly after orders came in over the wireless, Commander Emily Clark put the ship into action. "Mr. Reilly, take us on a heading one-zero-zero-three mark six-seven-two, horizontal axis. Take us straight in." Reilly and the helm acknowledged her order as the ship lurched forward.

"Link forward batteries to salvo fire and prepare to launch Vipers. Albatross squadron one to form up with Red and Orange squadrons." As they closed the range, Emily studied the DRADIS screen intently, "Forward batteries target that cruiser flanking _Peregrine_." She nodded to him briefly as the gunnery officer announced a lock. "Fire on my mark…mark!"

The ship shuddered as the massive cannons belched a salvo of shells larger than houses towards the unsuspecting ship. Seconds later, they fired again…and again. "Give me a visual on monitor three!" she had to shout now to be heard over the rest of the crew. The cruiser was already wreathed in flame, her shields having collapsed under the multiple salvos.

Enemy fighters were now winging toward the newcomer, but _Ranger _had already launched her own fighters to counter them. Meanwhile, Emily ordered a shift in targets as the two fighter formations degenerated into chaotic dogfights. "Fire Control, re-designate forward batteries' target to that wedge-shaped battleship pressing the flank."

As the batteries continued their deadly work, Emily clearly heard Reilly's brogue over the rumble of the guns, "Commander, we got enemy fighters breaking off from the main group to make a run on our flank. They're launchin' missiles!"

"Detail flak batteries to destroy the miss-!" she cut off as the massive ship shuddered from the hits and Clark berated herself for not having seen the bombers' coming. "Launch the reserve Vipers and drive those frakkers off! Give me a damage report!"

A crewman, whose name escaped her, ran forward. "Umm, non-nuclear impact, but they packed quite a punch. Pretty fast too. Decompressions and fires have been reported on decks three through eight. DC parties report they have the fires under control, but we've lost control of a few of the port batteries."

She tapped on Reilly's shoulder as he shouted into a phone and he turned to her, instantly ceasing the usage of multiple curses she previously didn't even know existed. "Contact _Journeyman_! She's the closest allied ship. Ask Shaw if he can gather a squadron and pull back to help cover our port side. Tell him we need some help and are hard pressed."

He nodded and dropped the phone he'd been ranting into moments before and ran over to the wireless station, shouting to be heard from only a few inches away.

Reilly came to stand right behind her, shouting that Shaw was pulling back as she once more studied the DRADIS screen. It was with satisfaction that she noted that the wedge-shaped vessel was drifting, despite holding up longer than the cruiser. Unfortunately, another cruiser and battleship were moving on them and launching fighters to join the already tremendous fight before them.

More bad news: In the middle of the huge battlefield, the DRADIS screen registered a pair of Vipers…being pursued by three times their number in bandits.

_Author's Note:_ _There's chapter two! As promised, it is up. You didn't get to see as much dogfighting as I originally intended, but it'll come._

_I want your opinion on this one, guys: Are my chapters long enough for you? What is here takes me hours to type and edit (generally 3, and this seems like an eternity to me.) Would you like it better if I updated weekly with longer chapters every, say, Saturday or update every three-four days with chapters generally like this. I know this may sound kinda dumb, but no matter how much I love writing, typing is the bane of my existence. _

_Anyway, on to other things. First off, I want to thank Steel Scale for the ship ideas he left me on my questionnaire, which we will be seeing frequently as the story continues. Next, I say thank you to my three reviewers for chapter one- it's always good to start out strong. Hope you like this chapter as good as last!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_-The CAG_


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_** or Star Wars**

**Some vessels we may encounter belong to either Steel Scale or Wes Imlay, who have graciously helped me fill out the Colonial Fleet**

**Chapter Three**

**Coroucant Battle-zone**

As the _Journeyman_ maneuvered to add the weight of her turbolaser and quad batteries to the _Ranger_'s, Jacen Solo and the few remaining _Journeyman _pilots formed up with the hastily-formed defense squadrons from the former. Below them, a huge swath of the capitol was in flames: Apparently, the entire sector around the Jedi Temple had been struck during the intensive bombing and orbital bombardment by the rebel navy.

In the Force, lives were being snuffed out by the dozens. The Temple was still under attack and even more Jedi were in orbit, evacuating or fighting. As he expected, his Twin sister was in the thick of it. Then again, so would he in a second.

Their assailants were in plain sight now: GFFA fighters, a mixed bag of E-wings, X-wings, and… _Sithspit_- TIE Defenders screening a dozen bombers. "Alright," Major Taylor Grey's voice rang in his helmet speakers. "_Ranger_ took a punch and we've temporarily lost several port batteries and point defenses. Those heavy-bombers are our priority. Good Hunting."

"Okay, you heard the Major," Jacen commed to his small flight. "Stick together and let's do this. Tahiri, stay on my wing."

"Got your back."

Jacen nodded grimly, "Open fire." Jacen opened up with a full burst, blowing an evasive E-wing to splinters before he was forced to cork-screw to evade an on-coming missile while Tahiri swooped in and blasted its owner.

Colonel Drake, former XO of the disbanded Blade squadron, and his wingman shot past, destroying a pair of fighters attempting to stop their run on the bombers and continued on to put a pair of torps into one of them.

Seeing their opening, Jacen and Tahiri made the most of their fighters' unique abilities to bring down another before blasting their way back out.

The rebel attack force had been stopped. That would've felt great if another wasn't already inbound.

**Coroucant; The Jedi Temple**

Grand Master Luke Skywalker's emerald-green blade wove an impenetrable shield against the mounting blaster fire as still more GAG SpecOps commandos poured into the hanger, blaster carbines working. Luke projected his voice above the din as he slowly fell back, "Come on! Get on the transport. Go, go, go!"

The last technicians and apprentices piled aboard the final shuttle headed for safety in one rush. Luke's lightsaber, meanwhile, turned another unlucky commando's blaster bolt back at him.

The final Jedi in the rear guard jumped aboard the shuttle as it lifted off as Luke sprinted acrossed the bay, arrowing for his StealthX, his lightsaber cutting through plastoid and flesh like a knife through butter. All the while, he turned enemy fire back away from himself and the little astromech rolling along in his wake as fast as its little wheels could carry it, bleeping a series of high-pitched squeals and noises. Anyone watching must have figured that if the droid could speak, it'd be swearing up a storm. Behind them, the shuttle was airborne, its single cannon blasting away behind it.

The destruction sowed by the shuttle's cannon was enough to distract the troopers, providing all the time the Jedi Master needed to levitate R2 into his socket and clamber aboard himself.

He cold-started the engine as R2 tootled a sarcastic question, "No R2, we don't have time to go through pre-flight! They're right on top of us!"

The droid beeped an indignant response and blew a raspberry as their fighter climbed for space.

**Coroucant; Airspace over The Jedi Temple**

Jaina Solo's StealthX deftly dodged through the many protrusions of one of Coroucant's massive Skyhooks, a pair of enemy X-wings on her tail. "Cappie," she called to the little astro droid tucked in its socket behind her. "increase power to the rear shields and try to lock down that loose stabilizer!"

She didn't have time to glance at the translation on the screen before throwing her fighter into a rolling dive and was rewarded when one of her pursuers smashed into the Skyhook, burning out a large section. She could imagine the expensive Skyhook's owner hopping up and down while shaking his fist in rage, hurling obscenities at the stars.

_The owner will have to bill me later_, Jaina thought wryly in response to the mental image. For now, she still had one on her tail…

And then she didn't, the X-wing vanishing from her screen. She craned her neck to look behind her in time to see another StealthX burst through the debris cloud. "Looks like you've got a few too many admirers there, Goddess!" commed the pilot, one Kyp Durron, using Jaina's old Vong War callsign. Force, he liked to push her buttons!

"Those kind I could do without!" she muttered as he peeled off after another unlucky bandit.

Jaina picked out a new target herself, a hapless A-wing that dissolved under the wrath of her guns. She was immediately forced to jink in order to avoid a concussion missile, one of a barrage fired from an enemy frigate, that came far too close for comfort. Jaina decided to respond in kind and made a run on the frigate's bridge, loosing a Shadow Bomb into the bridge's viewport.

After the detonation's flash receded, her cockpit de-polarized and she noted that where the bridge had once stood was now a blackened crater. She surveyed her handiwork with no pride, the fighter pilot in her only coldly noting that, indeed, that extra punch instead of propellant really made the difference.

The frigate listed starboard, devoid of its nerve center, un-obscuring Jaina's view of that side of the ship. What she saw caused her to stare in unguarded curiosity.

A few hundred kilometers from the frigate, a lone fighter of design and make unknown to her (And there weren't many of those) evaded the concerted efforts of four GAG X-wings to destroy it. Inexplicably, she felt there was something…_different_ and _intriguing_ about that fighter. Perhaps it was the Force or just pure curiosity; either way, it convinced her to intervene.

_The strange fighter's pilot is dueling with GAG fighters, so I guess the enemy of my enemy is my friend…_

She swung her fighter towards the dogfight. "That's not very fair. Lets even the odds, Cappie."

Immediately, though, she questioned factuality of the pilot's need for aid; even as she spoke, the fighter turned on a cred and loosed a stream of fire back at his pursuers, one X-wing simply disintegrating.

_Or maybe he has things under control… _She marveled at the strange fighter's maneuverability and the pilot's skill.

Regardless of the performance, she dropped onto one X-wing's tail and blew it away before its pilot even realized she was there, so intent was he on his quarry.

His wingmen, however, weren't to be caught so unawares, as one of the remaining X-wings dropped back onto her six and proceeded to pound her rear shields. Jaina went evasive, but the pilot had some skill. That, coupled with Jaina's mounting combat-fatigue and thus dulled reflexes, gave him the upper hand.

Her plane shuddered and rocked as her shields absorbed hits, no more than one or two at a time, but they took their toll.

Her fighter gave a violent jolt. Cappie squealed as her rear shields collapsed and her assailant landed a solid hit on her aft fuselage. She managed to corkscrew away before Cappie squealed again as she lost an engine. "Uh, oh…" she muttered as she jinked away from the next volley. "Cappie, can you repair the engine?"

NEGATIVE. WILL LOCK DOWN.

"Well, its better than nothing…" Her moment of inattentiveness finally cost her as her foe scored a couple more hits and the control panel exploded in a shower of sparks and fragments. Her controls were so sluggish they were nearly non-responsive.

She slumped in her seat. That was it then; she felt her enemy lining up for the final salvo as her hand shot to the ejection lever. Her battered fighter rocked violently, yet she didn't eject, instead looking back at the enemy X-wing…or rather where it had been, the shockwave having jolted her plane.

She reached out with the Force to identify her benefactor when her comm system cracked to life, "Loyalist fighter, this is Viper 0501. Please respond." The fighter, now identified as a Viper, eased in beside her, flying almost wingtip-to-wingtip with her. The pilot's helmeted head turned to regard her through the canopy.

Jaina activated her comm, "Viper 0501, this is Sticks. Thanks for the assist back there."

"Sticks, Viper 0501; callsign Gladius. Don't mention it. You can call us even. Listen, it looks like your aft section is pretty shot up. Follow me and I'll get you down safely, copy?"

Jaina's first reaction was hesitation with a hint of suspicion, but yet again that strange feeling pervaded, "Affirmative, Gladius."

"Good. Stay with me." He swung the Viper around carefully, pacing her as he led her towards a mammoth vessel, again of unknown origin, in the midst of dozens of flitting specs and twinkling flares of light. She sluggishly matched Gladius' maneuvers, which were amazingly smooth, despite the fact that he too was damaged: His tail fin was shredded and one engine was dark.

As they approached, a flight of Vipers met them and escorted them towards one of two massive landing bays…

_Author's Note__: And I'll end this week's installment there. Sorry for the break between updates. I had a lot of family stuff we did before summer's end. _

_Just notifying you that I will be updating during the school year (that starts tomorrow, argh!!), but it will probably become weekly. I should be updating every Saturday unless I post otherwise. Truth be told, I'm starting to ease back on the feverish pace I used to set; an update every three days with my typing skills started to run me down. Fortunately, since updates are weekly, chapters should be at least a little longer! :)_

_I want to thanks everyone who added my story to their Favorites and Alerts! More reviews though, please! I can't get enough of those. I'll give you all a cyber-cookie!! **shakes cookie jar enticingly** The same if you fill out the questionnaire!_

_Anyway, this whole debacle over Coroucant should be concluded next chapter._

_Thanks again for reading,_

_-The CAG_


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_** or Star Wars**

**Some vessels we may encounter belong to either Steel Scale or Wes Imlay**

**Chapter Four**

**Viper 0501, Callsign Gladius**

The escort peeled off as Stratis lined his Viper up for its hands-on approach into the _Ranger_'s starboard hanger bay, the Loyalist fighter keeping tight on his six. "Starboard Control," he commed, "this is Gladius. Clear the deck down there, you got two bent birds coming in. Requesting permission to land."

"Granted Gladius: Deck's all yours. Checkers green, call the ball."

"I have the ball. Alert sickbay to have a medical team standing by on the flight deck."

Ben stayed on the channel just long enough to receive confirmation before switching to contact his new wingmate. "Alright Sticks, this is a hands-on approach. Reckon you can handle that?"

"And cook breakfast," the pilot quipped.

"Okay, follow me in," he responded, allowing a slight grin in response to the pilot's spirit and almost- cocky confidence. He lined up and touched down expertly on the deck, using his maneuvering jets to position his Mk. VIII onto one of the many fight deck elevators. Fifty feet behind him, Sticks managed to maneuver her own crippled fighter onto its own elevator.

Together, the two elevators lowered down to the hanger deck. No sooner had his elevator stopped its decent, Tyrol's deck gang was crawling all over his fighter and wheeling a ladder forward.

Ben pushed his canopy forward and undid his restraints as Tyrol pulled off his helmet and proceeded to scan his CO for injury as Stratis stood. After a moment, he slowly withdrew, apparently satisfied, and allowed the Admiral to descend the ladder. Ben waved off the further fussing of the medics, insisting he was fine. "Go check the other pilot." He indicated the other fighter. When they hesitated, he snapped, "Go on. Move!"

As the medics scurried off, he was accosted yet again by Nicholas Tyrol, rather shocked and irate. "Sir, what did you do to my Viper?" he demanded, eyeing the tail section in dismay.

Ben regarded the section in question in idle curiosity, "I was wondering why the dorsal engine gave out."

"We're gonna have to pull the whole engine block! Cathy, get the high lift." (_A/N: This modified Battlestar moment brought to you by Ronald D. Moore and David Eick. This was one of my favorite miniseries dialogues between Galen Tyrol and Kara "Starbuck" Thrace. I couldn't resist modifying and inserting it. No copyright infringement intended!_) "I don't know how you managed to get this so shot up- the whole upper thruster block is slagged."

Ben was already stepping past him, making his way over to the Loyalist plane, leaving the shocked crew chief to bemoan the damage to his Viper.

Just as he approached, Sticks popped her canopy and dropped to the ground without waiting for the ladder. Stratis's subconscious noted that she dropped to the ground a little_ too_ lightly, but he filed it away as temporarily irrelevant given the present circumstances.

No sooner had her feet planted on the deck was she swarmed by the medical team. Clearly impatient, she allowed no more than a cursory examination of her injuries, those seeming to be limited to a number of small cuts flecking her face. As she waved the medics off, a member of Tyrol's deck gang approached to take her helmet. She pulled it off with barely a glance, freeing a cascade of brown hair. She immediately took to examining her ship, a habit she shared with all fighter pilots after being in combat.

He stood back respectfully for the few moments it took to complete her once-over. The prognosis, to Ben's eyes, would clearly be grave. This was confirmed as she ran a frustrated hand through her before removing her gloves and slapping those on her thighs for good measure. Then, she turned to regard him.

He extended his hand, "Ben Stratis."

She regarded the hand curiously for a moment before grasping it, "Jaina Solo."

The ship rocked with another explosion, reminding both that there was a battle being fought. "I hate to cut this short, but I've got to get to CIC." He started off for the stairs when he noticed she was just standing there, uncertain as to what exactly to do. "Come on," he prompted, "you can ride out the jump with us." He took off again and this time heard light footfalls behind him as she followed.

Ben led her through the maze of corridors, crewers parting before them as they in turn hurried about their combat duties. Now at his side, he could see her, out of the corner of his eye, studying everything. This the Colonial could understand: The _Ranger _was tremendously different from _Journeyman_, which Ben assumed to be the norm for her people's vessels.

Stratis pushed through the hatch into CIC as the Marine guard announced his presence, "Admiral on the bridge!"

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**; CIC**

That one caught her off-guard. "Admiral?" she asked with no small amount of incredulity: Admirals _never _flew into combat.

He managed only a brief glance back as he descended to the island in the middle of the room, "I'll explain later." She followed him down the stairs to the central command counter of the command center where a female officer was firing off orders at a rapid pace, pausing only when she noted Stratis's approach.

"Sitrep?"

The brown-haired woman answered without hesitation, "We've got a pair of enemy capitol ships bearing down on us. The topside hull plating is taking a pounding but holding. Our port side was mauled pretty bad, but _Journeyman_ showed up to take up the slack."

_Journeyman? That was my brother's…_

She didn't have the chance to finish the thought when a familiar voice crackled over the command room's speakers, "_Ranger_, Razor One. You've got a new wave being launched from the Imp Star Destroyer and light cruiser. Major Grey's shifting Red Squadron to counter." Jaina allowed herself the first true smile of the day- her Twin brother was out there. Swiftly following this elation was the pang of regret that she wasn't out there with him.

She looked on as Stratis assumed command and turned to one of his officers, "Acknowledge him and notify Grace that I've reassumed command." He hardly paused before continuing, "Helm, roll us over one hundred eighty degrees to keep our topside out of their fire. Their lasers are doing more damage than we anticipated."

Lights flickered and sparks flew as _Ranger_ slowly completed its roll, shortly to be followed by a violent jolt that nearly sent Jaina tumbling to the floor, and she wasn't alone as the Star Destroyer's opening salvo impacted. The rumble of the guns intensified as the ship's heavy batteries returned fire.

"Damage Control to the Starboard Flight Pod," commanded the woman, who appeared to be the ships second-in-command.

After what seemed an eternity in the massive slugging match, both sides landing major hits, the comm officer reported that the Loyalists were preparing to jump.

Jaina was among the many who breathed an audible sigh of relief, and she had more reason than most: The withdrawal order meant the Temple had been successfully evacuated.

Stratis was already moving, "That's it then… but lets give them a parting gift." He turned to the female officer, standing ready on his right, "XO, this is a nuclear mission order. Order nuclear ship-to-ship missiles into launch tubes one through four and input your launch code."

"Sir." Both flipped open their own keypads, fingers flying as they input a string of didgets: Launch codes. Jaina couldn't help but feel a bit out of place, as if she were somehow lost in a different time: Nuclear missiles had indeed been used before, but hadn't been seen in the galaxy for thousands of years. It was like something out of the history holos.

"Launch Codes confirmed, sir," the woman informed Ben.

"Very well. Target that lead ship, standard Pulse Protocols." After the affirmative, he called out, "Do we have the jump coordinates?"

A bearded man with what Jaina thought was a rather silly, and difficult to decipher, accent replied, "Plotted and laid in, sir."

"All fighters: Combat Landings. Prepare to jump on my mark." He continued to stare at the console above his head until he was informed all fighters and pilots were aboard. He then turned to the Weapons/Tactical officer, "Release of nuclear weapons is now authorized."

The man nodded and depressed the launch button. The lights dimmed for a moment when the quartet of missiles appeared on the screen, preceded by what appeared to be a wave of static. Belatedly she realized that the Star Destroyer would simply shoot down the missiles…but they didn't. The static wave hit the massive warship seconds before all four missiles successfully impacted. Every eye watched as the ImpStar disappeared from the sensor screen, and there rose a ragged cheer from the crew.

Stratis allowed himself a tight grin as the XO announced, "That's a kill!"

"Mr. Reilly: Commence FTL jump."

The officer nodded and signaled to another standing by, key inserted in its slot.

Jaina looked around as the room seemed to recede in upon itself. The crew seemed unphased, but she found it vaguely unsettling and claustrophobic. The ship gave a little jolt before returning slowly to its normal proportions and Jaina knew that, in an instant, they had left Coroucant far behind.

**GAG **_**Imperial Mk. II**_**- Class Star Destroyer **_**Crimson Villicus**_

A seated figure, shrouded in shadow, snarled as a blindingly bright flash briefly silhouetted the Star Destroyer _Avenger_ before it began to break apart, some parts simply vaporizing in the flash. The being clenched its fists in pent-up rage as the ship essentially vanished in the flash of light.

The figure rose to stalk back and forth, muttering darkly. The coup had went off almost exactly as planned; the assassin had successfully murdered Cal Omas and connected it with the Jedi Order. With the somewhat-strained relations between Omas and Skywalker lately, most people had believed in the Jedi's connection, save for a select few. Unfortunately, two such people were Garm Bel Iblis and Wedge Antilles, commanders of the Second and Third fleets respectively. They had reacted more quickly than anticipated, making flank speed for Coroucant. He hadn't really expected to convince Hapan Queen Mother Tenel Ka Djo of the Jedi's treason either, but at least hoped to buy some time. But she had seen through his deception and now she too was mobilizing. All in all though, thing were going well according to plan…

Except for that ship. It represented an unknown quantity that had not figured into the calculations, an enigma…but one he planned to get to the bottom of. After that, he would eliminate it from the equation.

_Author's Note__: Muhwahahahaha!! So this was all cleverly orchestrated! And who is this shadowy mastermind? Even you know more than anyone in the story!_

_In any case, this was originally going to be posted on Thursday, before my trip to Minnesota, but I reached the chapter's cutoff point far faster than anticipated, so here it is my ravenous readers! Now show me the love and review! I will most likely begin updating again next Saturday or Sunday to allow for a weekly regular posting._

_In case anyone's wondering what a "Pulse Protocol" is, its something I invented to allow the Colonials advanced nukes to be effective. Essentially, the Colonials took a point from the Cylons, as the ship gives off an EM pulse, briefly interrupting sensors and DRADIS. This was originally invented in the Third Cylon War to counter the Cylon's increasing ability to intercept Colonial nukes. Hope that is clear now, anyway. _

_Yes, all you military buffs out there: Admirals don't usually just jump into a fighter and blast off through the combat zone, but I wrote that in to convey that Stratis isn't your everyday Admiral- he prefers to lead from the front line. Often, that's what makes a good combat leader._

_Thanks for reading!_

_-The CAG_


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar**_** Galactica**_** or Star Wars.**

**Some ships or even a character or two belong to either Steel Scale or Wes Imlay.**

**Chapter Five**

**Battlestar **_**Ranger,**_** BSR-32; CIC**

A medical technician was the last in a long string of personnel seeking an audience with Admiral Stratis after the Battle of Coroucant, just as in every other engagement. "What is it, Ensign?" he asked, even though knowing deep-down exactly what she was there for.

"Casualty list from sickbay, sir."

Ben's fist unconsciously clenched. He forced a calm tone, "Lets hear it."

The chagrined Ensign's eyes fell to the clipboard in her hand, "Seventy-eight KIA, one hundred twenty-three wounded. Sir."

Ben's voice was un-disguisedly hoarse, "Very well. Pass the word: Services for the dead at fourteen hundred hours, Dress Grays."

Without another word, the Ensign saluted and withdrew.

Benjamin Stratis did not see himself as devoutly religious, but now, as after every battle, he closed his eyes and raised his face to the heavens, lips moving silently in prayer. The entire bridge crew fell immediately silent, refusing to intrude upon the man's solemnity. He responded to their courtesy in kind, nodding his thanks before the crew returned to their work.

The last in the long stream of reports received, Ben handed over the con to Thomas Reilly before heading over to the two prominent females in CIC, Commander Emily Clark and one Jedi Jaina Solo, each eyeing the other with veiled suspicion. He quickly came between the two, "Colonel, Miss Solo," he asked quietly, "care to join me for a drink?"

He looked at them pointedly until they both consented. Even in the tightest hallways leading to his quarters, Ben always remained in between the two women, not liking the way they looked at each other. In his comfortably-appointed quarters, the two sat silently acrossed from each other, each taking the measure of their opposite. When things did not ease with the pouring of the first glass of Ambrosia, Ben ventured to break the ice, "Jaina Solo, this is Emily Clark. Emily, Jaina." The two nodded, but the tension eased almost imperceptivity, enough to make a toast possible in any case.

"To the fallen."

The other two echoed his statement somberly before downing their glasses in one. "Smooth," Emily commented after a moment.

Ben nodded his thanks, "Chateau Traibiere, 2008." Once again the silence.

Ben turned to the thus far mute Jaina Solo, "So, can you tell me what that was all about back there?"

The woman's brow knitted, "I really don't know much more than you right now. One minute I was asleep in my bed, the next the Temple was being bombed and I was gunning for high orbit." She shrugged, "That's really the gist of it."

One part of the statement seemed to strike Emily. "Temple? What temple?" she asked, addressing Jaina for the first time.

"The Jedi Temple on Coroucant."

This time, Ben decided to chime in, "Uh, Jedi?"

Jaina gave them both a look of pure and unveiled incredulity, "You don't know what a Jedi is?"

Both could only shake their heads.

"Stars, they didn't tell you much!" she exclaimed, amazed by their total lack of even common knowledge. "The Jedi Order was established thousands of years ago, consisting of beings that have the ability to tap into the Force. The Force is the life field that connects all living things. Those who are _Force sensitive_ have the ability to consciously utilize the Force." When they still looked confused, she decided to demonstrate, "Like this." She dropped her hand away from her raised glass and it remained suspended in midair. Jaina witnessed their jaws dropping with more than a little satisfaction.

"And everyone can do this? You said the Force is in all living things," asked Ben, jaw working.

"No, not everyone. Everyone is connected to the Force, but not all can wield it. Those who can are the Jedi Knights. You can identify one if you see one of these." From on her belt, she withdrew a curious-looking metal cylinder. She thumbed an activator stud and a violet pillar burst from the end.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**, BSR-32; Admiral's Quarters**

Jaina's lightsaber filled the room with its familiar _thrum_ and Jaina was silent for a moment as the Colonials viewed the energy blade in something akin to wonder. They obviously didn't have technology like this. Then something seemed to click with Ben as he turned to his XO, temporarily acting as though Jaina wasn't there.

"Em, remember when I boarded _Journeyman_?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"When I came back, I told you about a suspicious-acting woman who didn't wear shoes. _She had on of those on her belt!_"

There was only one Jedi that fit the bill, and Jaina said so, "You met Tahiri."

Ben turned to face her, "Yes. She had a…what do you call those things?"

"Lightsabers."

"A lightsaber," he agreed. "Anyway, she walked right beside us instead of clustered together ahead with everyone else. If she had these special abilities that would explain it." He fell silent for a long moment, contemplating, before a nudge too his side by his fellow officer snapped his eyes back into focus, "But where are my manners?" He called in a black-clad soldier, "Corporal Lennox will lead you to your quarters."

It was a dismissal, but not an impolite one: Jaina _was_ exhausted and felt filthy. Being in a flight suit for eleven hours would do that. "Thank you, Admiral, Commander. Lead the way, Corporal."

Both officers were still seated and silent when the hatch swung shut behind them.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**, BSR-32; Admiral's Quarters**

Emily poured them both another glass of Ambrosia as Ben reclined in his favorite chair, eyes closed. Silence pervaded until Stratis slowly opened his eyes to regard his best friend, "What are you thinking Colonel?"

Emily neve knew how he had always been able to read her so well. She leaned over in thought, unconsciously swirling the amber liquid in her glass before answering, "I'm thinking that maybe we shouldn't have gotten involved. We could have just gotten ourselves into another war we don't need to be in."

Ben nodded wearily, "I was thinking much the same… and I do appreciate the implications of my actions. Inevitably though, I think we would have been draw into this conflict anyway and we may have vested interest in seeing the right people come out on top I also know that I've just committed us to a war not our own, putting thousands of lives at risk." He looked at her sardonically with eye brows raised, "That about cover it?"

Emily looked a little abashed, "Sorry…I didn't mean it like that. It's just…"

He waved off the apologies, "Don't worry about it: It's your job. You're keeping me honest."

She did not answer, only taking a sip of her drink.

"Personal opinion, Colonel. Off the record."

She nodded and set the now-empty glass aside.

He fixed her with an inquisitive stare, "What would you have done in my place?"

Emily pondered this question a moment. She had known it was coming, but was still didn't have an answer or solution that satisfied her. "Probably the same as you, I suppose, going with my gut and judging by the information I had. A little more Intel wouldn't have hurt, but it probably wouldn't have affected my conclusion."

Ben inclined his head, accepting this statement, " Thats the burden of command. And what do you think of our guest?"

This took longer to mull over. When she spoke, she chose her words carefully, "I would rather have her as a friend than an enemy. Solo's obviously a veteran; sometime in her life, she trained herself to be a weapon. You can see it in her manner, in her stance. The ease with which she carries it…perhaps she's had to be this way for most of her life, but she seems to be able to turn it on and off. I'll be more worried when being a weapon becomes all she knows."

Ben downed his thus-far untouched drink, "So say we all."

_Author's Note__: Hey guys, sorry for the wait! I don't know: This chapter seems…off to me. What do you guys think: Good as always or not-so-much? I also apologize on its length. I had an English paper due tomorrow, so I am weary of typing. I just wanted to get this out there. Hopefully now though, I can get back in the habit. Let me know what you think!_

_-The CAG_


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer:**** I still do not yet own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_** or Star Wars.**

**Most characters and vessels are mine, but a fair few are Steel Scale's or Wes Imlay's**

**_Reposted_**

**Chapter Six**

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**, BSR-32; Officer's Quarters**

Jaina Solo stepped out of what seemed to have been her first warm shower in ages. She had stood under the hot water for Force-knows how long, every inch of skin coming out a light shade of pink. Yes, sonic showers definitely had their disadvantages. She wrapped herself in a towel before leaving the 'fresher and walking over to the pile of drab green jumpsuits that had been made available to her until something else could be found. Her droid, Cappie, freshly levitated from his socket under the wide eyes of the deck gang, sat in the corner.

Holding a pair of jumpsuits, she turned to the droid, feeling strangely amused, "What do you think? The green one or the green one?" she asked as she held two identical jumpsuits up before her. The astromech tootled what she interpreted as a dry remark as she pulled on one of the two suits, casually throwing the other on the room's cot.

Her eyes drifted over the room's Spartan accoutrements. _Not really much to do here…_ she thought. Logic followed that there must be something to do other than sleep aboard this ship, so she meandered over to the hatch leading to the causeway. Opening it, she turned back to her little companion, "I'm going out, Cappie. Why don't you power down for a rest period?"

She heard a bleeped affirmative from the droid, still in its corner, as she swung the hatch fully open, marveling at the simplicity of the whole ship…and very nearly walked right into her guide, who she now took as a guard as well.

"Ma'am?" he inquired politely, steadying her.

"So, uh, what do you all do to pass the time around here?" she inquired after an awkward pause, feeling a bit flustered after her near-impact with the man's chest.

"We keep busy. Most of the time people spend down at the Officers Club." Contrary to Jaina, he seemed rather nonplussed.

_An Officer's Club, eh? Could be fun. _"Really? Where is that?" she asked, interest piqued.

The soldier raised an armored hand to point directly down the corridor, "Straight down the hall, ma'am. You can't miss it."

"Thanks you Corporal…" she trailed off, never having learned the man's name.

Fortunately, he caught her drift and filled it in, "Hansen, ma'am. Kyle Hansen."

"Hansen," she finished. "Do me a favor and don't let anyone in, will you?"

"That's my job, ma'am."

Despite his stiff formality, the man gave fine directions; at the end of the corridor was a plain hatch with the phrase 'O Club' stenciled on its front. With a slight shrug, she pushed through the hatch into the club itself, which consisted of a bar and a few tables, all of which were occupied. The room was loud and the crowd of officers, mostly pilots, were behaving as servicemen often do after an op: They were partying. She spied a small cluster at one table playing a strange card game, somewhat aloof from the room's other occupants. As Jaina neared the table, the dealer gave her an appraising glance, "You want in?"

Jaina pulled up a chair from one of the other tables before looking at the odd-shaped cards she'd been dealt. "Uh, anyone know how to play Sabacc?"

--

An hour later, Jaina left the club and returned to her quarters. The guard, Hansen, did a double take and could not help but stare, mouth agape, at the copious amount of cubits cradled in her arms. She flashed him a quick, knowing, wink before the hatch clanged shut: Her opponents couldn't believe it either.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**, BSR-32; Hapes**

A day later, after affecting a fairly-major overhaul of the port hull plating, the mighty Battlestar _Ranger_ arrived at the Loyalist rally point, sending defense forces into a tizzy before the situation was rectified. Thanks to the interference of a quick-thinking Hapan Admiral, a major diplomatic crisis was avoided and Ben put in touch with the Loyalist High Command.

As _Ranger _maneuvered to its orbital station, the entire crew marveled at the multitude of spacecraft orbiting the planet in swarms, vying for airlocks at the planet's massive orbital facilities. Well, most of the crew anyway.

The Admiral was in a deep sleep after a long stint in CIC. The phone in the Admiral's Quarters rang until Ben grumpily roused to answer it, "Stratis."

"Colonel Reilly in CIC, sir." The man's Irish accent sounded tinny over the sound telephone. "We're currently in geosynchronous orbit over the planet Hapes."

"Very well, Mr. Reilly. Thank you." Ben moved to hang up the phone, intending to try for a bit more sleep, when the Colonel's voice interrupted his movement:

"Wait one, sir. _Peregrine_ is hailing us." There was muffled speech as information was relayed to Tom before the Irishman continued, "General Bel Iblis would like to speak to you, Admiral."

"Patch him through, Colonel," Stratis sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

There was a soft click as the comm lines were shunted before the General's voice filtered over the phone, "Admiral Stratis?"

"Yes, General. What can I do for you?" Ben said, fighting a yawn that threatened to erupt.

"Its good to hear your voice, Admiral. When you failed to arrive, we assumed you lost over Coroucant." He sounded genuinely relieved.

"It will take more than that to do this ship in. We just had to initiate certain repairs to our outer hull . The laser batteries really fried our armor plating."

"Do you require assistance? I can make a dry dock available for you."

"Thank you for the offer, General, but that will not be necessary: Battlestars were built to be easily repaired in space, requiring less time laid up in Dry Dock."

"Very well." The man paused a moment before continuing, "I've justbeen contacted by the Fountain Palace, Admiral: The Queen Mother will be most anxious to meet you and her staff has cleared much of her schedule to meet with you. It is requested that you shuttle down at your earliest convenience. Do bear in mind, Admiral, that the Queen Mother is a very busy woman and her schedule _is_ constrained."

Ben's heavy eyes propelled open as he reflected upon his currents state of being: Un-shaved and un-showered, clothes and hair disheveled, and still not-yet recovered from almost twelve hours of duty as he supervised repairs. He forced his voice to assume a measured tone "Thank you, General. Send my regards to the Queen Mother and inform her I will be shuttling down in…" he glanced at the clock. _Frak…_ "within the hour."

"Certainly, I'll let you prepare. _Peregrine _out."

He practically sprinted to take the shower and was in and out in a minute flat before he hurriedly pulled on his Dress Grays and belted his ceremonial silver-plated pistol to his waist. Then, with no small amount of reverence, he approached a display case displayed prominently on his wall. From it, he withdrew his most prized possession: A dress sword passed down from generation to generation. He belted it opposite his holster before striding over to the mirror and ensuring that his uniform was immaculate: It wouldn't do to look careless and as though he just rolled out of bed when meeting a monarch. He knew _that_ much about diplomacy. Making for the hatch, he paused in mid-step before turning about to pick up the phone once more to request that Jaina Solo meet him down on the hanger deck.

**Hapes; Fountain Palace**

Queen Mother Tenel Ka Djo of Hapes, skin still sheen from her morning shower after her daily bout of aerobics, had resigned herself to the lengthy process of donning the voluminous dress typical of the Hapan Court. Normally she would not consent to wear the thing, but today her advisors insisted upon it and she reluctantly dressed for formal occasion.

After a half hour of fitting by the small team of servants, they finally pronounced their work finished. Just grateful for small blessings, Tenel Ka immediately left the Royal Suite, striking out for the throne room. The corridor was ornately spacious, dotted by the dozens of fountains that gave the Palace its name.

Tenel Ka's trusted aide, Elesia, fell into step a cordial half-pace behind the Queen Mother, silent until the monarch acknowledged her.

"Good morning, Elesia. The morning report?"

"Yes, madam."

"Very well, what is new today?" She kept her face impassively stoic, but wanted nothing more than to grimace at the prospect of another day of court life and governance. Instead of bowing to emotion, she acknowledged the guards flanking the Throne Room's massive doors.

Elesia waited for the Queen Mother to seat herself before speaking, "Admiral Beyla reports that the number of Loyalist ships in orbit is increasing steadily. Thirty-eight warships arrived overnight brining the total to…" she trailed off as she ran the calculations in her head, "One hundred sixty-four."

"And our own fleets?" she inquired, referring to the five Hapan fleets stationed abroad.

Elesia called up the information with a few keystrokes on her datapad, "Four fleet commanders have reported in, their ships making flank speed for Consortium Space. One, the Fleet of the Great Shield, has not reported in. Intelligence fears them lost or that they have ignored the recall order. It is impossible to ascertain, as the fleet is not where it is supposed to be."

Tenel Ka sighed and rubbed her temple in an un-characteristic show of emotion, "I fear it is the former. Admiral Trayl was very loyal to us. She would not have betrayed us."

"There's something else, isn't there, Queen Mother?" Elesia had known the Queen Mother long enough to notice her small mannerisms.

Tenel Ka turned to look at her for a moment before speaking. "Yes," she said, the words almost escaping as a sigh, "The day of the rebellion, the Force woke me with a great disturbance. I now know what it was." She fell silent, her face revealing nothing, but her posturing speaking volumes.

Elesia changed the tact of the conversation away from the grim news of the fleet's destruction to another part of the Intelligence report, "The government is reforming on Mon Calamari as we speak. There they'll elect a new chief of state and create a provisional council. Fortunately for us, the shipyards at Mon Calamari, Bilbringi, and Kashyyk are still in Loyalist hands and have what battle groups we have to spare tasked to defend them, but most of the Loyalist fleets are disorganized. They'll probably require complete restructuring."

Tenel Ka keyed up the holo display from her throne and the lights dimmed. The holomap it displayed the latest information Intelligence could provide: Loyalist sectors, planets, and forces were widely dispersed and clearly outnumbered by the red-painted "GA" territories. Nearly every major faction had officially declared their allegiance except, Tenel Ka noted, the Imperial Remnant, which was still colored neutral's white.

Gray eyes never leaving the map, Tenel Ka asked, "Where does Intelligence believe our enemy is moving?"

Elesia frowned, "Our Intelligence Service is in disarray and in the dark since the attack, but the High Command has several theories based on what we have."

Tenel Ka merely nodded for her to continue.

"It appears that the First and Seventh Fleets are recovering after taking Corucant ,while the Sixth and Fifth are continuing their campaign against the Corellians. The Ninth and Fourth Fleets are both being well-screened and their exact whereabouts are unknown. Our analysts suggest they are preparing to attack either Kashyyk or Bilbringi, but until further information is available, this is all conjecture."

The Queen Mother's eyes narrowed slightly as she ran the tactical ramifications in her head. Finally, she reached a conclusion, "Detail this fleet," she indicated one of the Hapan Fleets on the map, "to alter its course to the staging area so that it can jump to Bilbringi when called upon."

The aide made note of the order to transmit it to the Fleet Commander via Holonet at the conclusion of the report.

Tenel Ka keyed off the Holomap and it receded back into the projector. "Is there anything else?"

Elesia scanned her checklist, "One last item, your Highness. Um, there is a delegation coming down from orbit in the next hour."

Tenel Ka seemed to droop at the prospect of another rather pointless meeting: All of them wanted the same things, yet she had to meet with each to be diplomatically polite. She couldn't help but ask, "Who is it this time?"

Elesia gave the one-armed Jedi a knowing smile, "I think this one will be more interesting."

"Why?" her voice carried a hint of interest and curiosity.

By way of explanation, Elesia asked, "Queen Mother, do you recall the report of a strange vessel appearing during the Battle of Coroucant?"

"Yes. They were appeared to have been destroyed, correct?"

"Apparently not, as their commander is on his way down as we speak."

_Author's Note__: Well guys, that's Chapter Six, and I'm happy to say that I'm more pleased with it than my last chapter. _

_I still feel like I'm in a bit of a slump writing-wise. If there is anyone willing to help me get over this, I could use a beta. My main issue is that I dislike my wording at times and thats mostly waht I would like opinions upon. If I note great improvement with the beta, perhaps I should permanently use one. I've never had one, so I don't know. I would request that anyone who offers to beta have a working knowlege of the story thus far and be a fairly prompt responder. Thank you._

_Anyway, to make up for my errs in the previous installment, I made this one a bit longer (I even left a party early to finish) so I hope you all enjoyed it!_

_-The CAG_


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar**_** Galactica**_** or Star Wars**

**Please note that some characters and vessels belong to Steel Scale or Wes Imlay**

**Chapter Seven**

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**, BSR-32; Hanger Deck**

Jaina practically slid down the metal ladder leading down to the flight deck in her haste. Despite the many advantages and distractions provided by the Officer's Club, she once more found herself unbelievably restless and out of the action. She had taken to spending her time in the Viper flight simulators in the Training Suite, but after four days even they were beginning to lose their appeal and she had been overjoyed to be given something to do.

The deck gang, by now accustomed to her presence, greeted her as casually as they would one of their own pilots. Always seeming to know something was going on even before the participant themselves, they were easily able to direct her over to the landing party.

She eased her hectic pace as she neared the delegation, suddenly feeling tremendously underdressed. From within the small cluster of officials, the familiar figure of Admiral Benjamin Stratis emerged. He was impeccably clad in a gray Dress Uniform, adorned with several commendations and ornamental finery. Unbidden, the thought came to her head, _Boy, he cleans up good…_ Immediately chagrined she forced the idea out of her head as he approached.

"Thank you for coming, Jedi Solo. I imagine you were going a bit stir-crazy trapped aboard ship."

She chuckled easily, "You have no idea…"

He nodded and gave her a slight, knowing, smile, "You'd be surprised. I realize thats mostly from being out of the action. Unfortunately, I didn't call you down her for a life-or-death mission. I actually, uh…need your help." His face reddened slightly, as though he was embarrassed for having to ask.

Jaina, fully intending to play this out to the fullest extent, replied neutrally, "What do you have in mind?"

His face tinged again, this time a deeper shade, "Actually, I'm going down to the Fountain Palace to meet Queen Mother…" he broke off, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to recall, "_Tenal Kah Deeyo_."

That this massacre of Tenel Ka's name was obviously his best effort only made the situation all the more amusing. Fighting to keep a straight face, she answered, "So you need me so you don't make yourself look like the most ignorant and un-sophisticated fool this side of the Core?"

He winced slightly, but didn't deny it, "See why I need you? The diplomatic package we received was…incomplete. I would really rather not insult the monarch of a powerful Galactic Civilization at our first meeting."

Somewhat charmed by his chagrined honesty, she let the charade drop. "Okay. How long do you have?"

He consulted a wrist chrono before replying meekly, "A half an hour."

She looked at him in disbelief. When he didn't break into peals of laughter and tell her he was kidding, she finally spoke. "Well this should be interesting," she said sarcastically. "Come on." Grabbing his arm, she led him onto the shuttle, the rest of the diplomatic team following comically in their wake.

**Fountain Palace, Hapes**

Tenel Ka felt the familiar presence of her friend Jaina even before the great doors swung open. Though outwardly maintaining her neutral expression, through the Force she was already extending her greetings.

As soon as the carved door halted with a resounding _boom_, the delegation stepped smartly through the entryway: Three uniformed officers and a civilian, dressed in formal finery, flanked by a troop of her own Household Guards led by Major Sola Osso. To their rear, standing respectfully back was Jaina.

The Major announced the party formally and only withdrew the escort to the side when the Queen Mother dismissed her.

The most prominent figure in the delegation was one of the uniformed officers, a lean but muscular man, perhaps only as old as she herself. Flanked by the two other officers, a male and female human, he stepped forward to an appropriate distance before executing a smooth and almost flawless bow of the Royal Hapan Court.

Tenel Ka could admit she was surprised to find the Unknown Regions ambassador so well versed in Hapan courtly procedures. The surprise though, lasted only so long as it took for her to note Jaina's satisfied smirk. The man came to attention and respectfully waited for her leave to speak. The monarch acknowledged his courtesies with a nod and deigned for him to begin.

He spoke in a firm and confident tone, "Queen Mother Djo, I bid you greeting on behalf of the Colonial Federation. We thank you for granting us audience, especially in these hectic times. I am Vice Admiral Benjamin Lee Stratis, assigned to negotiate on our behalf."

Tenel Ka matched his formalities, "I welcome you to Hapes, Admiral. Before we delve into the complexities of negotiations, would you care to introduce you companions?"

"Certainly, Your Majesty," he replied graciously. First indicating the female officer to his left, he said, "This is Major Taylor Grey, CAG aboard my ship and top pilot." Turning again to indicate the red-haired man on his right shoulder, "This is Colonel Thomas Reilly, my third officer. Lastly the man in the back," he gave a broad sweeping motion to indicate the man, "is Sutonius Cato, my chief diplomatic advisor, whose staff waits just outside." The aging, white-haired man bowed respectfully from the waist. "And I believe you already know Jedi Solo."

After acknowledging each of the party in turn, she returned her attention to their leader, "Now, Admiral, what do you wish of us?" She eyed him intently to gauge his response while simultaneously sending tendrils of Force probes discreetly in his direction.

Aside from a brief unsettled look, he appeared unfazed, "I have been sent to make contact foreign cultures and to forge alliances as I see fit. I have been given broad authority in these matters by my government. Considering the events of recent dates, I have deemed an alliance between our two people to be mutually beneficial. It is that that I seek."

Tenel Ka encountered his eloquence with a query of her own, "What would such an alliance entail? What would be expected of both parties?"

"In the Federation, this generally means open diplomatic contact, trade, and military support against aggressors. If my proposal were to be accepted, Mr. Cato would establish an embassy here on Hapes. Similarly, your Consortium could send a delegation to Caprica or Earth for the same purpose."

At this point, what interested her most was the third of the conditions, "Military aid, you say? Perhaps my information is faulty, but is your territory not deep in the Unknown Regions?"

"It is ma'am," he agreed, "but even as _Ranger_ made its way here, we located a suitable location to establish a Fleet Headquarters. At this very moment, one our most reputable Admirals, Scott Tolan, is preparing Orion Fleet Headquarters for use by the Colonial Fifth Fleet. When called, their advance elements could be here in a matter of days."

"How soon exactly would you be able to fight?" she pressed.

It took a moment for Stratis to consider it, "We could put a full fleet out here in about two months. A few battle groups, however, could be in the field in about a week."

When the Queen Mother didn't reply, he continued, apparently unconsciously dropping the cautious diplomatic approach he had thus far favored, "Queen Mother, with respect, I believe the finer logistics and points in the treaty are better left to be decided by politicians at a later time. At Coroucant, my own morals compelled me into involving my people into another war. I am not a politician, I'm a soldier. I go where my government tells me to go, fight who they tell me to fight. I am answerable to them and my own conscience.

"But I am also a leader of men, as are you, and I want what is best not only for them, but my people as well. The way I see it, the best way to do that is for us to help each other." When he finished, he noticed that all eyes were upon him and realized that his entreaty could have been seen as a great affront. He stepped back, abashed at his lack of protocol, "I apologize Queen Mother, I overstep my bounds. Forgive me." He inclined his head to her in respect.

Instead of letting lose, as he clearly expected her to, she favored his with one of her rare smiles: She had finally seen the true man beneath the uniform and upon him judged the merit of his people... and found them worthy, "You need not apologize, Admiral. It is refreshing to hear someone speak their mind, especially amidst the Hapan Court. I appreciate it even more when the advice is sound." She paused a moment, "In less troubled times, I would have taken the time to address the finer point of these negotiations, but I believe you are correct when you say that such things may be attended to in less turbulent times." She drew herself up to her full height, "Admiral Stratis, on behalf of the Hapes Consortium, I hereby accept your treaty."

Pleasantly surprised and mouth slightly agape at his unexpected diplomatic success, Stratis still managed another bow, "Thank you Queen Mother. If you will so permit me, I believe that Mr. Cato will be able to draw up the appropriate documents."

The bearded man stepped forward, "I can indeed, Highness, if you'll be so kind as to provide me with some paper. After that, all that remains is to put pen to paper."

A half-hour later, the deed was done.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Jaina remained in the Throne Room, even after the monstrous doors closed behind the Colonial Delegation.

Sensing that her old friend wished to talk, Tenel Ka dismissed her entourage from the room, suffering their disgruntled looks with ease. Finally away from prying eyes, the two women let their emotional guards down, or at least as far as Tenel Ka ever did. For the next hour, they sat upon the steps of Tenel Ka's dais, for a moment becoming as they were in their days on Yavin Four. Although each attempted to avoid talk of war, in the end there was no escaping it: It loomed too darkly on the horizon. Tenel Ka found her self asking Jaina where she would go.

Jaina considered this a moment, not actually sure of an answer. "For now," she said at length, "I'll probably help Uncle Luke find a place for a new academy. After that, I don't really know."

Tenel Ka gave her a quizzical look, "Of course you do. You will do as you always do."

"And whats that?"

The Dathomirian warrior's mouth gave an odd quirk, "Buy, beg, or steel a fast ship and find yourself in the thick of the action, of course; you _are_ a Solo."

Jaina grinned and conceded the point, "The action always seems to find us, I suppose."

Tenel Ka nodded solemnly, "This is a fact."

Jaina was about to respond to her friend's trademark phrase when there was an echoing _clank_ and _boom_ as the two doors at the fore of the hall swung ponderously open, revealing the physical form of an already-recognized Jedi.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Jacen Solo, eyes still traveling the atrium in bland curiosity, jumped as the massive, immovable, doors before him creaked open. No sooner had he cleared the entryway, he found the air being squeezed from his lungs as he was enveloped in wampa-hug by a deceivingly-petite, brown-haired, woman.

"Hey Jaina," he gasped, hearing his ribcage crack ominously, "Ahh! Not that I'm not happy to see you…" He heaved in breath, "But I _think_ my ribs may be collapsing."

He was released as she stepped back, an innocent look on her face that he knew all-too-well. "What, a _big_ sister can't give her _little_ brother a hug?"

Jacen smacked his forehead in counterfeit annoyance at the renewal of _this _old jest, "Three minutes, Jaina, three minutes." He held up three fingers to illustrate his point.

She waved his argument away. "Three minutes or three hours; it doesn't matter!" she insisted.

"Alright, alright," he gave in jovially. Then taking a more serious tone, he placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, "How have you been, sis?"

"Could be better," she said sarcastically. "You?"

Eyes falling on Tenel Ka, standing respectfully aside while the twins enjoyed their reunion, he replied, "Despite it all, not too bad. Not too bad at all."

Despite his discreetness, she took note of his gaze and abruptly backed off and out of the room, muttering something about food and a game. Jacen chuckled inwardly; _Always thought she knew more than she let on…_

He stopped before the Queen Mother of the entire Hapes Consortium and gave a slight bow. "It's been a long time, Tenel Ka," he said with a ghost of a smile.

She looked at him. "Fact," was all she said before she was in his arms, pressing herself tightly to him.

"I've missed you so much," he said softly as he stroked her long, red hair.

"And I you," she replied sincerely. Then she hesitated, as if afraid to ask, and Jacen knew that not much frightened her.

"What is it?" he prompted her.

"H-how long will you stay?" she asked, a barely perceptible stutter in her first word.

"As long as you want me to," he assured her and felt her tensed muscles relax, "I'm not going anywhere." After a long moment, he realized there was someone conspicuously absent from this happy reunion. "Where is Allana?"

Tenel Ka stepped back, "She is staying with the Singing Mountain Clan on Dathomir. I will send for her tomorrow."

He looked at her, puzzled. "Why tomorrow?"

Tenel Ka linked her one good arm with his, "You have been away for months. You may call me selfish, but tonight, Friend Jacen, you are mine."

The press of her warm lips on his plunged his every sense into pure bliss and was the last thing he consciously felt that night.

_Author's Note__: Well, that was chapter seven. I want to thank all of you for sticking with me: I tried out that whole beta thing and sent the chapter to a couple different sources. The whole systems still has a few kinks in it though. I probably won't utilize betas for every update, but when I feel sub-par, I will. I'll try to notify you all ahead of time._

_Anyway, some big news: We are now officially off of the fully written notebook. I kind of feel like I have more leniency in writing now. _

_Another big one: A Colonial Admiral, Scott Tolan, is mentioned. This character belongs to author __**Wes Imlay**__. Wes has written one of the best post-Colonial Holocaust, other-fleet, stories I've ever read. I highly recommend you check it out._

_I want to thank those who beta-read this chapter for me as well: Wes Imlay and his mysterious friend Tim and darth rat. Ablated Crayon, I would be happy to send any other trouble chapters your way, but we need a DocX connection. I'll set it up._

_Thanks for reading and please, please, please review!_

_-The CAG_


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica **_**or Star Wars**

**-Some characters or vessels we may encounter are property of Wes Imlay or Steel Scale**

**Chapter Eight**

**Orion Fifth Fleet Headquarters, Galactic Frontier**

Fleet Admiral Scott Edward Tolan, flag officer of the Fifth Fleet, strode down the stark halls of the newly-completed headquarters complex, blue eyes occasionally glancing out the widely-spaced viewports to gaze upon the vacuum beyond. Space was dotted with the light of dozens Battlestar drive engines as they went about their duties or jockeyed for a docking position on the space station, including his own flagship, the _Monarch_-class Battlestar _Triumph._

Freshly completed, the orbital was stripped down to its barest minimum: No hatch or bulkhead adornment, dim and flickering lighting, and minimal crew complement. _Almost like it was aboard _Victorious _before we found Earth, _he reflected idly. Every so often, Scott passed a crewman in the winding corridors, but it was infrequent in this area of the station. Until the station's completion, Scott was required to stay aboard to supervise its construction, leaving Admiral Darius Wilcomb in temporary command of the Fighting Fifth. After leading survivors of humanity through uncharted space to find Earth over two decades ago and then returning triumphantly to the Colonies after succeeding in this mission, the tediousness of this duty was enough to kill a man.

Yes, life sure had changed since then: The "Mighty V" had served the new Federation well, with explicit distinction at the Battle of New Acropolis. The old Battlestar now operated as a museum over Canceron. On a more personal level, he had lost his beloved wife Emily a little over five years ago, and he now found himself living only for his work and his family. His children had grown from innocent youngsters into fine young adults, pursuing their dreams for life.

His silent reverie was interrupted by the familiar blare of the PA system. _"Admiral Tolan to CIC, Admiral Tolan to CIC," _the familiar voice of the base comm officer echoed through the near-deserted companionway.

Scott turned about and headed for the command center. He soon found he was chiding himself for hoping _something_ was happening. Shaking his head to clear it, he pushed through the hatch into the base's CIC and saw it more a bustle than ever before.

Upon seeing the distinguished Admiral enter, a junior officer ran up to him, a sheet of paper in hand. "Communiqué from Admiral Stratis, sir." The boy reported breathlessly. "He reports that the situation out there is more complex that originally anticipated and has requested the immediate deployment of the Fifth Fleet to a set of attached coordinates."

"You confirmed this?" Tolan asked.

The man nodded in assurance, "Yes, sir. Encryption, call, and recognition codes all match."

Scott nodded, "Did the Admiral give a reason for the need to deploy the fleet?"

Yet another nod. "He reports that he has successfully concluded a treaty with one of the inhabitants of this region. Ahh…" the boy hesitated.

"Spit it out, son." Tolan knew his irritation was ill-concealed, but he had no patience for being uninformed.

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Apparently, this 'Hapes Consortium' is at war."

Tolan stared at the man, half-expecting him to cry out that he was only joking.

It was not to be.

Scott continued to stare for a moment, then, "Why the hell would he conclude a treaty of alliance while we're at war back home!"

The officer shrunk back from his incredulous outburst. "I don't know sir," he replied somewhat meekly.

Tolan exhaled heavily before patting the boy on the shoulder, "I know, son. Not your fault. Well, I'm sure Stratis has his reasons. Contact Admiral Wilcomb and instruct him to take his battle groups to the rendezvous point."

Scott was confident the Fighting Fifth was in capable hands, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it should be _he_ leading his men into battle

"Yes, Admiral." The Ensign snapped a crisp salute before returning to his station.

As Wilcomb prepared to jump, Scott was left to ponder. "_Why would Stratis have formed an alliance with a government already at war? What was he thinking?!" _Tolan forced himself to calm down, clamping upon his ire with logic, _"I'm sure he had his reasons. There very well may be ramifications I am unaware of." _Feeling mollified by this, Tolan watched as Wilcomb's ships jumped away before turning to leave CIC; until he received more news, some rack time would do him good.

He had almost made it to his quarters when the klaxons began to blare.

**Fountain Palace, Hapes**

Stratis reclined on the cushy lounge chair overlooking the forest-themed pool in the diplomatic suites, enjoying the simple comfort of the sunlight on his skin. _"The things you miss when in space…" _he mused absently.

The greater parameters of the treaty itself already decided upon, Ben found little for him to do, as the rest of the negociations were being attended to by a team of men and women who actually _knew_ what the frak they were doing. Stratis chucked lightly at the absurdity of his position in hindsight: The most imaginative of authors couldn't have imagined such a situation as he was in now.

Most of his hours had been spent here. There were few people in this wing of the Palace aside from the servants and, quite frankly, they weren't the best of company. So, he had done his best to entertain himself with what he had on hand. He had first tried reading, but soon had sped through most of what he had acquired. He had tried watching the _Holonet_; it had taken forever for him to figure out how the work the damn thing and when he had, he grew tired of that as well. So, he now simply relaxed under the luxurious sun and he could think of far worse fates. Still, it would be nice to have something to do or someone to talk to…

"You look bored," a voice declared suddenly from beside him, the person's stealthy approach giving him a start.

The voice laughed easily at his reaction as Ben shaded his eyes from the now-encumbering sun.

Seated on the chair to his right was the Jedi Jaina Solo, clad in an exercise suit against the heat of the day.

Now knowing of his companion's identity, Ben replied, "Not much to do around here." He gestured around, "After the first week you run out of things to do, even here."

Jaina smirked knowingly, "Stinks to be cooped up somewhere, huh?"

"So say we all."

Both were quiet a moment until Jaina stood suddenly, "Come on."

Stratis pulled himself out of his seat, "Where we going?"

"Hiking," she replied turning away, leaving Ben to scramble in following. "The Queen Mother owns a large plot of land nearby and has protected it as a nature preserve."

_Well, it's better than what I've been doing… _"Alright."

She led him off the Palace grounds, and Ben easily noted that the pair were being shadowed by Hapan agents, despite their discretion. While he realized they were present for his protection, he found them vaguely annoying. When the hoverbus ride and the beginning of their hike failed to shake off the determined tails, he approached to point them out to a seemingly-oblivious Jaina Solo.

Before he could do so much as open her mouth, she spoke to him as if being tailed was the most casual thing in the galaxy, "They've been following us since the Palace, I know. Feel up to losing them?"

Interest finally piqued, he gave her an almost indecipherable nod while smiling faintly, "My pleasure."

She gave him an impish grin, "Good. Follow me!" She instantly redoubled her pace and led them off the beaten trail, leaving the bewildered agents far in their wake. It seemed as though her footsteps were but a whisper of wind through the trees even to Ben, having no small amount of experience in stealth himself.

Growing steadily fainter as they pushed through the foliage, they could hear the noise their shadows made trying to follow until they lost their charges completely in the dense brush.

And yet, having lost their tails, Jaina still continued to lead him further away from civilization. When he asked where they were going, the only answer he received was a vague "You'll see."

Taking care to follow closely, he allowed her to lead him through the forest until coming to a treeless rise before them. As she crested the hill, she turned back and smiled before waving him onwards.

Sensing they had reached the end of their hike, he trudged up the hill and felt his breath leave him in a rush- Astounding in its magnificence, the sweeping valley before him was as picturesque as he could imagine a scene; the grass blew gently in the wind, waterfall sparkling in the sun. Nowhere had he witnessed such a sight.

Jaina soon joined him. "Pretty nice, huh?" she said, quirking an eyebrow at his incessant stare.

"How did you find this place?" Stratis asked, still wonderstruck by the panorama.

She blushed crimson. "Uh, actually, Jag Fel and I found this while we were walking a few years back."

"Boyfriend?" he inquired innocently enough.

"_Ex_-boyfriend," she said pointedly. "Things tend to fall apart after you're opposing him in a small war and are forced to shoot him down." Guilt creeping up on her, she refused to raise her gaze.

After a moment of hesitation, he rested his hand on her arm, startling her into looking up. "Thank you for showing me," he told her sincerely.

She glanced away from him quickley.

_Maybe it was my imagination or a trick of the light, but did she just blush?_ Ben asked himself, but soon shrugged such thoughts off. Moving the conversation away from such shaky ground, he asked, "Well, now that we're here, what do we do?"

She turned back to him, pondering this for a moment, "Well, we could go swimming. If I'm remembering right, there was a nice spot a few hundred yards downstream."

This sounding reasonable, he walked with her as she followed the river, finally finding the spot she was looking for: It was almost like a lagoon, a small pool, almost still against the river's flow. He was about to wade in when an unsuspected sight garnered his gaze: His companion was unzipping her one-piece exercise suit!

Ben hastily raised his eyes to a safer plane. "Uh, Solo…ummm, what are you, uh, doing?" he stumbled over the words.

She looked at him queerly. "Going swimming?"

"Um, why then…" he cleared his throat awkwardly, "Why are you undressing?"

She continued to regard him oddly, "Well I'm not going swimming in my clothes." Despite being an exercise suit, Ben was forced to admit they were not the best for swimming, but his question was not yet resolved.

"But I mean, are you wearing a swim suit or something?"

She actually laughed at this, "Are you worried about my modesty?" She chuckled, "Thats very gentlmanly of you, but don't be: This will serve just as well as anything." Jaina casually shrugged off the suit to prove her point.

Now seeing her, Ben felt like an adolescent school boy: Of course her undergarments would suffice as a swim suit- they were no different than any other worn by the female pilots in the Fleet and he had seen those all the time. But still…

He shrugged his odd discomfiture off; he was being ridiculous.

"Hello? Hapes to the Admiral!" Jaina was already waving at him from in the water. It was now that he noticed that being referred to as "the Admiral" did not suit the relaxed circumstances. Without hesitation, as he waded into the cool pool, he told her, "Call me Ben. I hate being the Admiral all the time," he confessed a bit sheepishly.

She seemed to take it in stride, "Then call me Jaina."

And so it went on from there, for hours on end until dusk fell upon Hapes and the two reluctantly called an end to their little excursion and made their way back to the Palace.

As they came to Ben's suite of rooms, he turned to the brunette beside him, "This is my stop." He paused a split second, "I really had fun today, so thank you."

"Me too. I can't tell you how long its been since I could honestly say that."

"I'm glad." There was another silence, longer this time, "Well, good night Jaina." He said awkwardly, mutely cursing his bumbling as he closed the door softly behind him.

Jaina, for her part, stared at the closed door for a long moment before slowly making her way to her own quarters, a contented smile slowly telling upon her face.

_Author's Note__: Well, that's Chapter Eight folks! I'm sorry it was a bit fluffy for those of you who are looking for some action, but rest assured you'll be dosed with that soon enough._

_I'm really sorry about the long space between updates: Life has been busy and the homework pile mountainous. As I said before, updates will come as I have time to write them._

_A special thanks to Wes Imlay for his input on my writing of Scott Tolan. Some descriptions were written by him under advisement to me._

_Thank you all very much for reading and please review!_

_-The CAG_


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_** or Star Wars**

**-Some characters that may be encountered belong to Wes Imlay or Steel Scale**

**Chapter Nine**

**Orion Fifth Fleet Headquarters, Galactic Frontier**

The near-frantic voice of the comm officer soon joined the wails of the alert klaxons that deafened the halls of the station: _All hands man your battle stations! DRADIS reports inbound enemy vessels! This is NOT a drill. Repeat, NOT a drill!_

Scott Tolan was already sprinting down the hall, barreling for CIC. His head was already spinning with calculations and plotting logistics:

_Twelve capitol-class Battlestars, sixteen light Battlestars, five fire-support Warstars, their fighter complements, and one un-completed space station. __All vessels outfitted for heavy engagement... _

So long as the odds weren't too steep, they stood a good chance of victory, but Tolan would know more when he reached his command center. _Damn good timing, _he noted absently, _catching us so soon after Wilcomb jumped out…_

But Scott had no further time to follow this line of thought as he pushed into the station's CIC. "Report!" he bellowed to anyone who could hear him.

That same young boy he had received a report from when he last was in CIC approached, his face ashen- this was obviously his first time in combat. "We lost contact with the Battlestar _Aecheron _approximately two minutes ago after receiving a garbled distress signal. Less than a minute later our long-range DRADIS picked up a large force of enemy vessels closing in on the station. They'll be in weapons range of the outer elements of the fleet in less than a minute!"

"Calm down, son," Tolan counseled. "Recall the rest of the fleet on station to defend Orion and bring all defensive batteries on-line."

The young man took a visible and calming breath, "Yes, sir." He dashed off to the comm station to relay his order as Tolan himself approached his command station. Screens already alight with data of all conceivable sorts he pieced together all possible information before activating the fleet-wide comm, "Attention all hands. This is Admiral Tolan. We have a large force of hostile vessels inbound and about to come into weapons range. The origin of our foe doesn't really matter now; remember your training and we will prevail. All commanders are to maintain their battle formations and to hold their fire until the enemy enters effective range. Your main objective is to protect the station until it can be evacuated. Good luck and go with the Gods."

He deactivated the link, leaving his ship commanders to deploy into their formations and turned to the defense of his own position, "Activate all operable batteries. Detail the Battlestars _Tumult _and _Flurry_ with their escorts to take up defensive positions around the station." He paused to observe the enemy's approach as they neared weapon's range, glancing out the viewports to witness a salvo of red beams from their lead ships lance towards his fleet moments before he gave the command: "Fire at will!"

The main guns of dozens ships belched flame as they hurled their payload towards these attackers; almost instantly, the enemy's salvo slammed into half a dozen ships throughout the fleet. Immediately his screens became alight with damage and casualty reports, drawing his attention as the Colonial volley was mostly dissipated against energy fields projected about the enemy warships.

The trade of fire intensified as the opposing force closed the range between the two fleets, red and green beams flying so thickly it looked as though they could be walked upon. The Fighting Fifth lived up to its name by responding in kind with their own kinetic batteries. Tolan looked on with horror tinged with fascination as the enemy beams struck hull plating, causing it to broil and melt before his eyes and seeing the return fire detonate short of the attacker's hull until finally, at length, penetrating through sheer volume to shred the enemy warships' thinner hulls.

It was clearly a slugging match now and all that was left was for Tolan to begin the evacuation of the station and take personal command of the fleet. As the battle progressed, he developed an uneasy feeling in his gut, but could not seem to pinpoint its source. Suddenly, the entire complex jolted as it took a series of hit from an unexpected direction: Behind. A quick glance at his DRADIS screen informed him that the enemy had indeed jumped in behind his force and were now maneuvering to bracket the entire Fifth.

Hits upon the station intensified as the _Flurry_ succumbed to enemy fire, her armories and magazines detonating in a brilliant flash. What had been an even fight moments before now turned into a one-sided holding action…and he was on the wrong side of the equation. There was only one choice left him: He sent the Evacuation Code, sending the station's crew scrambling for the launch and escape pod bays.

Tolan himself scrambled about CIC imputing computer codes to wipe the data files contained therein and set all remaining weapons to auto fire- including the station's twenty-four nukes. The deadly missiles streaked towards their appointed targets to cover the evacuation and three enemy capitol ships exploded violently under the strain of their detonations. Not that Tolan noticed though: He was already pounding for the launch bays. Unfortunately, Tolan also didn't notice the alert in CIC informing him that the station was being boarded.

**Assault Shuttle Four, GFFA Star Destroyer **_**Annihilator **_

Private Sulon Marice, GFFA SpecOps Division, double checked the charge back on his blaster carbine as the assault shuttle clunked gently against the foreign space station's airlock.

"Hard seal," announced the pilot, all business as he delivered his "cargo."

At this, the two point men began cutting through the hatch with plasma torches, slowly burning through the thick door. Marice could _feel_ the element of surprise slipping away from them as every second passed without the felling of the door. As the cut finally neared completion, pair of shaped charges were placed on the door to blow it off completely and to momentarily distract any defenders on the other side of the airlock.

Sulon's fingers tightened on his blaster as the squad leader depressed the detonator, the explosion sending the hatch tumbling down as the two point-men leapt through the hole, blasters spitting. Almost immediately however, as Marice had feared, the two men thudded to the deck, plastoid armor cratered by kinetic fire, but the rest of the squad was now piling forward. As Marice joined them, he got his first glimpse of their foe: Helmeted humans dressed in black armor, hunkered down behind crates and other objects, calmly taking shots at the GFFA troopers. There were only about eight of them, but they sufficed in making the troopers pay for every inch they advanced. The fifty-man assault force aboard the shuttle soon dwindled to thirty.

But the enemy was not without their own losses: The foremost of the enemy squad fell as blaster bolts melted their "armor" like wax. A third soon followed them, but the rest successfully fell back, the troopers close behind, to a converging corridor…and another squad of the black-clad soldiers to catch them in a crossfire.

Marice's buddy, Jolin, whom he had fought with over three campaigns, took an enemy round to the face as the embattled troopers withdrew, unable to breach the new line without reinforcements…or heavier firepower.

Sulon's squad regrouped. Acting squad leader Kalan, having assumed command when Sergeant Vox fell in the crossfire, mustered together the remaining three other men under his command, "_Annihilator _is sending another boat with reinforcements and heavy weapons. We've also received a mission update from Admiral Otto: Once we breach the barricade, we are to combine with Theta squad to hunt down and capture any enemy technicians and personnel we may find for interrogation. The rest of the assault teams are in the same fix as we are, but when we break out, we believe the other positions of the enemy's holding action will collapse and the station will be ours. Understood?"

The remainder of Kilo squad nodded mutely in response and moved into position in the corridor beyond the barricade, awaiting the promised breach. They watch dispassionately as their fellow soldiers thudded past and ignored the whine of blaster fire until the _whumpf _of a thermal detonator's explosion pierced the halls.

This being the signal, Kilo joined its brother squads as they made the final push to break the back of the station's defenses.

By the time Marice reached the barricade, most of the defenders thereof were laying spread-eagled upon the ground. What few survivors that remained were already being hustled to the rear under the jabs and prods of wary GFFA troopers. For their part, Marice's squad pushed onwards into the station. For the longest time, they encountered none in the complex's darkened halls. At length, they came to a hatch, carefully sealed, that barred their further passage…until shaped charges blasted it apart and they stormed through the doorway into an area that appeared to be crews' quarters.

As they fanned out beyond the door, there was a belated discharge of kinetic fire, erratic and inaccurate, originating from the far side of the room. With a hand signal, Sulon indicated that he intended to flank the position while his squadmates provided distraction.

Using his teammate's attempt at dialogue mask his movement, he slowly inched his way around an aisle of bunks and brought his quarry into view: Huddled in a corner was a lone human female, hands clutching a pistol and looking scared beyond her wits. Sulon would have moaned aloud: She obviously wasn't going to have any information and as far as they could tell, she seemed to be the only person left on this derelict.

Resigned, Sulon set the blaster to "stun" and squeezed off a single shot into the woman. With a sharp intake of breath as her only reaction, she crumpled and was soon surrounded by the other troopers of Marice's squad.

Arms cuffed behind her, they waited for her to come to. Initial questioning came to nothing- she seemed barely able to give them her own name.

Kalan called him over, "Marice, take her back to the shuttle. Maybe the boys at Intel can glean something from her. I doubt it, but you never know."

Marice was about to protest when he stopped himself short with the realization that his squad was unlikely to see any more action and taking this duty would get his back to his rack and a hot meal that much faster. "Yes, sir."

He hauled the prisoner to her feet and got her moving through the gloomy corridors to the airlock where they had gained entrance to the station initially. Occasionally along the way, he encountered a few GFFA troopers milling about, but nothing more exciting than that. Slowly but inexorably, his attention drifted away from reality…and he soon regretted it.

A sharp pain jabbed at him from the back of his head and he crumpled into darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sulon slowly opened his eyes and squirmed about and quickly found that he was bound securely by what felt like his own stuncuffs.

A soft female voice caused him to jerk his head in that direction, "Sir, he's awake." It was the woman that his squad had captured not an hour before, now somewhat calmer and regarding him with no small amount of distaste.

Another voice wafted from the gloom. "Thank you, Ensign," the voice of a man replied. Soon the man's face fell into view. "Have a nice nap?"

"Who are you?" Marice grated out.

"That's none of your concern, but you may call me 'Orion' and you are going to tell me all about who you are and what the Hell you are doing shooting up my men."

_Author's Note__: Well, that's Chapter Nine. Sorry for the long time between updates folks- life plays heck with your free time. Anyway, I hope this chapter turned out to your satisfaction. I am a little dissatisfied, so let me know what you think! This author loves that Review Button!_

_Thanks for reading,_

_-The CAG_


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_ **or Star Wars**

**-Some characters or vessels that may be encountered belong to Wes Imlay or Steel Scale**

**Chapter Ten**

**Orion Fleet Headquarters Combat Zone**

Commander Stephanie Devaux was in quite a fix, or rather she and her ship were.

The ship shuddered again as it took multiple hits along the starboard flank as the enemy raked her broadside with murderous energy fire. From all over the ship, CIC was receiving reports of _melting_ armor and bulkheads. The crisis extended beyond her own _Valkyrie_-class support Battlestar _Immortalis_, however: The Fifth Fleet, never before bested in combat, was falling back in the face of an unknown and numerous enemy force. "Charlie!" she yelled as a panel exploded to her left. "Input your launch code and target that lead warship analog; fire at will!"

Her XO, Colonel Charles F. "Charlie" Anderson attempted to wipe the grime from his face, only succeeding in smearing it further as he reached down to deactivate the nuclear safeties. "Firing!" he declared as he turned the launch key.

The muffled roar of the missile's launch momentarily overshadowed the deafening clamor of battle as the missile streaked towards the enemy vessel that now raked _Immortalis_' side.

Despite the attempts of numerous bandits to intercept the missile, the twenty-five megaton Phoenix nuclear missile impacted upon the vessel's shields, shattering them and proceeding to do the same to the enemy hull. The ship's fire ceased, leaving a looming silence aboard the embattled Colonial ship.

"Charlie," Stephanie called hoarsely, "Contact Admiral Romanus and inform him that _Immortalis_ has succeeding in breaching the enemy perimeter and has sustained heavy damage and losses. Requests further orders and reinforcements."

Charlie nodded his comprehension, "Got it, Steph." He immediately moved off to the currently vacant comm station to transmit.

Stephanie reigned-in her currently-flyaway red hair and tied it into a pony-tail to keep it out of her eyes. "Right. Recall the fighters and re-arm the batteries. Away all DC parties. We have a lull for now: Let's make the most of it."

The exhausted crew trudged off to attend her will, knowing full well that the enemy would be back in force to counterattack before too long. Ensign Tallas Leyte caught the Commander's attention as she passed by the central console and spoke to her in a low undertone, "Casualty report, Commander: three hundred thirty-nine killed or wounded and seventy-three MIA. Acting CAG Johannson reports the total loss of twenty-seven Vipers and further reports six more combat ineffective."

Stephanie bit her lip: Half her crew and over three quarters of her fighter force down- this was not looking good. But, she realized, morale had to be maintained, "Keep this to yourself for now. Understand what I mean?"

He nodded solemnly, "Yes, Commander."

She nodded and moved on to the next station, there to be handed a sheet of transcript paper- more bad news:

**To all commands:**

**Enemy has withdrawn and is reorganizing for a final assault. Anticipate attack within the next hour. All vessels to spool up FTLs and prepare to jump on command. Acknowledge on same frequency.**

**-Romanus**

Stephanie swore rather viciously: They had fought so hard and lost so many and now for what?! She took several deep, calming breaths and pushed her hand through her hair- of course they couldn't stay, else they'd all die. She let the communiqué flutter to the already-cluttered floor. "Spool up the FTL," she called wearily, "and prepare our people for combat landings on command: Prepare to jump."

**Final Evac Raptor inbound to nearest Colonial Battlestar, CFS _Hector_**

Tolan mopped his brow as he leaned against the Raptor crew compartment's metal sides. He sighed and his head clunked against the unyielding bulkhead: It had been a close thing. Somehow, Tolan had moved his little group to one of the rear hanger bays, the only one still in Colonial hands, more due to insignificance than staunch defense, and had hopped on the last Raptor out of there as the enemy, now known to him as the "_GFFA_," finally stormed the bay.

He looked acrossed the compartment at their prisoner, sitting mutely with eyes downcast: The first Colonial Prisoner of War.

**Grand Atrium, Mon Calamari**

The temporary Senate Chamber was packed with delegates from every corner of the galaxy yet aligned with the legitimate government of the ex-GFFA…and each one of them was currently raising their respective voice into an indecipherable tumult regarding who the next Chief of State ought to be. As of now, two major factions had evolved and neither seemed to be able to appease the other; Kelosk Atla'kir of Bothawui and Nallas Tein of Sullust's ideas were polar opposites and both were unwilling to equivocate on their policies.

Atla'kir advocated a peaceful settlement on the enemy's terms of the conflict, deeming the war already lost and stating that they should end the fighting before they were wiped out completely. He had garnered the support of the more peaceful species, such as the Ithorians, and that of planets already attacked or at risk of invasion.

Tein widely declared that the only way for the fighting to end was to strike back and, if victory was impossible, to fight the enemy to a stand-still and make it so costly that better terms could be negotiated. Contrary to Atla'kir, Tien had the support of the Senators from more combative systems, such as Kashyyk. A large percentage of his backing came from the Outer Rim systems, not yet at risk from GFFA assault.

The two factions were hopelessly deadlocked; the Jedi, still greatly scattered and having previously remained aloof from the civilian government, had recognized the importance of unity and now desperately attempted to mediate the two sides to little avail.

Junior Senator Alaric Cimbar of Farris Tarr VI lowered his head into his hands as he cast about for an acceptable moderate for the position along with a few dozen of his peers. Together with the few and somewhat-mistrusted Jedi, they wracked their brains for some sort of solution.

_Respected, experienced, diplomatic, and a capable warrior…_ The words of the Mon Calamari Senator and Jedi who headed the mediators, Clighal, rang through his head. There seemed to be few who fit the bill who were yet unaligned! His colleagues appeared similarly at a loss. He glanced once more in growing despair at the flimsiplast containing a list of Alliance members and their representatives: Triebaak, Atual, Trek'ala, Jolina…

Alaric's gaze lingered on the last representative- she wasn't present today he didn't think…and she represented…

A grin slowly spread acrossed Cimbar's face as he dashed towards his peers, epiphany forming in his head.

**Fountain Palace, Hapes**

_"…and in a surprising turn-of-events in the Loyalist Senate, Queen Mother Tenel Ka Ta Chume Djo of Hapes has been elected Loyalist Alliance Chief of State to replace the now-deceased Cal Omas. Skeptics galaxy-wide comment on the irony they see between having a Jedi Chief of State when it is still maintained by the GFFA that Jedi assassinated the previous one. Only time shall tell. This is Tal Buras, Faction Two HoloNews…"_

Tenel Ka sat transfixed before the holo. Not an hour ago had she been contacted and offered the position of Chief of State and now the announcement was being trumpeted by pro- and anti-Loyalist channels throughout the galaxy.

After a good deal of convincing at the hands of a majority of the Senate and the Jedi, Tenel Ka had reluctantly accepted the position. Already she was scheduled to travel to Mon Calamari within the next three days to be sworn in to office and, quite frankly, she was having trouble taking it all in; it was a feeling to which she was not accustomed. She sat uncharacteristically still before the HoloNet transceiver, still trying to collect herself. A gentle knock on the door drew her attention and she quickly deduced the identity of her visitor before allowing Jacen Solo inside.

He took note of the flickering holo and raised an eyebrow inquisitively, "You were never much for mindless zoning. That was always more my department," he cracked, setting it off with that Solo grin she so adored.

"I always preferred to keep my mind unpolluted and fully functional," attempting to feel the levity he was so trying to produce.

That grin only widened as he leaned in to kiss her, and was undimmed when he pulled away. "I know why you've become a Holonet addict!" he teased good-naturedly. "I hear the Queen Mother of Hapes has taken the step up from regional monarch to galactic Chief. Our little Tenel Ka is all grown up!" He mimed wiping away a tear.

The one-armed Dathomirian knew he was trying to make light of the situation for her sake and she leaned into his embrace, tucking her face into his shoulder. "It is a great responsibility, Jacen. I often feel overwhelmed ruling only the Consortium! What if I am not equal to the task?" she practically whispered.

"Hey," he admonished, tipping her face up so that he could look her in the eye. "None of that. I have never seen you undertake something that you didn't or couldn't achieve. You've been my crutch all my life. Now it's my turn. You _can_ do this. Trust me."

"I do," she said, kissing him. "I truly do, but I cannot help but think…"

"Then don't think. Leave that to me."

Tenel Ka allowed herself a small grin, "That can lead only to disaster…"

She felt Jacen do a double-take, "What was that, m'lady? Did the almighty Queen Mother crack a joke?"

She looked up at him with a straight face, but with eyes alight with merriment, all thought of responsibility immediately forgotten as the two fell into their familiar playful banter, "Of course not. You must have imagined it."

"Oh did I?"

She took a step back from him, "Indeed."

A mischievous sparkle entered his eye, "I don't think so." He took a step forward again, and she was forced to take a step back. "I think my stoic Tenel Ka cracked one of her all- too-rare jokes and isn't willing to admit it." He took another step towards her and Tenel Ka found her back to the wall as he took one step further, putting himself toe-to-toe with her. "Admit it."

She tilted her chin up defiantly, "No."

"So that's how it's going to be?" he sighed in mock-resignation. "I guess I'm going to have to make you."

"I would like to see you try," she replied, willingly following his thread.

"Would you? Really?"

A small smile gracing her lips was all the impetus he needed as his lips descended upon hers and his now-roving hands slipped downwards, sending her silken robe fluttering to the ground as her own hands found his tunic clasps. Not breaking the embrace, the two lovers fell upon the great bed in the Queen Mother's chambers, both now oblivious to all events beyond the reach of each other's arms.

Tenel Ka was suitably distracted; Jacen Solo had done his job well.

**Orion Fleet Headquarters Combat Zone**

"Here they come, skipper!" the cry arose from the DRADIS station, and an upwards glance at the central console confirmed it.

She regarded the DRADIS in growing dismay, "What's the status of our reinforcements?" To her, that was the deciding factor in whether or not she would make her stand here.

It was her XO that replied, "The _Hector_ is four minutes out, leading the rest of Battle Group Four to the jump point."

"Patch me through to _Hector_ Actual."

A moment later, she picked up the phone, "This is _Immortalis _Actual."

"Devaux," came the simple reply, "This is Tolan. You've got to hold that opening; do you understand me, Commander? You've got to hold!"

Stephanie unconsciously straightened, "Aye, sir."

"Good. Now, we'll be on station in…three minutes now. Hold on that long and we can take it from there. Acknowledge?"

"Yes, sir."

Without any further discussion the line went dead and Devaux replaced the phone to address her anxiously awaiting crew, "Bring us about and load the guns! Contact Johannson and order him to cover our starboard flank. Present port side to the enemy and open fire as soon as they come into effective range. We _have _to hold this position, people," she said, raising her voice further above the rising din as the weary crew prepared once more for action. "The Admiral and our comrades are counting on us to keep this escape route open. Can we do it?"

The crew mustered enough energy to summon a powerful assent and Stephanie allowed herself a tight grin. "I certainly hope so," she muttered, "or we're all dead."

For the Colonials of the Fighting Fifth and their GFFA enemies, it was a desperate race to the finish.

_Author's Note__: Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I've found little time lately to progress this story, what with school and my various other extra-curriculars. I hope this chapter is completed to your satisfaction. I love that review button, so let me know what you think!_

_Thanks for reading,_

_-The CAG_


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_** or Star Wars**

**-Some characters and vessels may belong to Steel Scale or Wes Imlay**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Grand Conference Room, Hapan Fountain Palace**

Tenel Ka, simply, blessedly, clothed in a simple tunic adorned with as little royal finery as her advisors would allow, assumed her traditional place at the head of the immense carved-wood table. Without delay, she motioned for the other attendees to do the same.

Situated around her were Hapan Admirals Tricia Beyla and Garik Karth, Jedi Knights Jaina and Jacen Solo (holding the proxy of Master Skywalker), Colonial Vice Admiral Stratis and his second-in-command, Colonial Chief Negotiator Sutonius Cato, and Loyalist General Garm Bel Iblis. These men and women made up the highest-ranking officers of the Loyalist and allied military forces in Hapan space, meeting to discuss the coming days' operations.

The Queen Mother immediately brought the assemblage to order, "Thank you all for coming, my friends. As you all are probably aware, the Loyalist Council has elected me Chief of State for the duration of this crisis. As such, I will be traveling to Mon Calamari to accept the position tonight. In my stead, Duchess Elise Maya will reign, as my daughter is old enough to take the throne. Force willing, I will not be away so long as my daughter will come of appropriate age to take the throne. In the meantime, I call this Council of War into session. General Bel Iblis, I believe you have a briefing prepared?"

The aging officer rose and offered a slight bow, "I do indeed highness. Gentlemen," he began, activating the holo projector that would illustrate the strategy, "After taking Capitol Planet, the First and Seventh GFFA fleets appear to be recuperating while the Fifth and Sixth continue to press the Corellians, who seem to be near defeat. The Ninth and Fourth fleets ARE being extraordinarily well-screened, but information acquired at a rather hefty cost from a group of smugglers confirms the previous belief that their target is Bilbringi.

"Two battle groups of the old Eighth Fleet are currently tasked to defend the shipyards. The plan is to wait until the Ninth and Fourth GFFA drop out of hyperspace and engage the defending capitol ships. When the enemy force is suitably occupied and unwilling or unable to withdraw, we jump in. I will lead my Third, now designated the Loyalist Second, in on the right. My Hapan counterparts will take their own fleet in on the left. Admiral Stratis," he said, turning to the silent officer, "will your forces be ready?"

Stratis' eyes narrowed slightly, "I believe so. My last com link with Admiral Wilcomb indicated he'd arrive on-station no later than tomorrow afternoon."

Bel Iblis nodded sagely, "Very well; it cuts things a little close but the plan is still sound. Your forces will take the center. With luck, my esteemed colleagues, we can catch these two GFFA forces and eliminate them as an effective fighting force, evening the odds in this war." He nodded and the projector shut down and the lighting resumed normalcy. "Questions?"

Stratis raised his hand.

"Yes, Admiral Stratis," Bel Iblis recognized his younger counterpart.

Ben inclined his head to Bel Iblis before speaking, "What are our projections on casualties?"

This put Bel Iblis on the spot as his eyes narrowed in thought. "It'll cost us," he said finally, "But if it goes as plan, it'll hurt the enemy far more. I won't venture to give a number to the cost, but losses will be heavy."

"I understand. Admiral Wilcomb will be in overall command of the fleet, but I can assure you we'll do our part."

"Thank you. Any other questions?" No other hands were raised. "Alright, then we go in thirty-six hours. Alert your commands and issue final shore leave. It's probably going to be the last they'll see for a while."

**Later**

Having finished a communiqué for Admiral Wilcomb appraising him of the plan, Stratis sad down to brief his second-in-command of their orders in his planet-side quarters.

When he had finished, she asked the first sensible question, "And where will we be? We don't have a Battle Group with us, but Wilcomb will know he's gonna need the extra firepower."

"_I'll_ probably be with the fleet during the combat jump to Bilbringi," Stratis said carefully, putting particular emphasis on the first word to offer a lead-in to the next, uncomfortable, topic.

His emphasis was not lost on her and seemed to catch Emily off guard, "You mean I'm not going with you? _Why_?"

Ben had predicted just such a response and still found he was unprepared for it. Truth be known, he didn't like going into action without her to watch his back any more than she did, but the mission was important and he trusted it to no-one else but her. "I'm sending you and the diplomatic team with the Queen Mother to Mon Calamari to liaise with the Loyalist government after she assumes power. This is a very important job, Em. I need you to do this for me."

They locked eyes, both examining the other as only two friends as old as they could. Finally, she nodded, "Alright, I'll do it, but I don't like it."

"I don't like it much myself," Ben admitted, "but I don't trust this to anyone else but you."

"I know, I know, it's just…you and I have been working together for a long time and I don't like going without knowing you're not there to have my back," she obviously had trouble articulating her concerns, even to him.

Ben reached over and squeezed her hand, "I feel the same way. And even though I'm not there, you don't think I'm sending you alone, do you? I'm giving you one of the new _Apollo_s for this mission. The Admiral is sending one ahead, as per my request. Congrats, Em: This'll be your first detached command."

"Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically. Standing and sketching a salute and doing her best to put on an optimistic face, "Well. Sir, I better go pack my things. G-Good luck."

Stratis stood up and reached a crossed the coffee table and shook her hand solemnly, "You too." When he noted she still looked a bit troubled, he reassured her, "Don't worry- you'll be fine. Trust me, you're ready for this. A raptor will be down for you in an hour. I'll see you after all this is over at the rendezvous point, alright?"

Emily nodded, eyes no longer troubled, but misted with emotion, "You better, or I'll kick your ass, you got that?"

"Yeah," he said, laughing, "I got you." He pulled his oldest friend into a hug before giving her a gentle push towards the door, "Get going, Commander. You've now got forty-five minutes."

_**Apollo**_**-class Battlestar **_**Sentinel**_**,****BS-360**

Emily shouldered her duffel as she stepped down from the raptor, thankfully to no fanfare or great ado- she loathed making speeches. Instead, there was but a single ensign waiting for her to lead the way to CIC.

"Welcome aboard the _Sentinel_, Commander," she said, saluting.

Emily returned the courtesy before saying, "Thank you, Ensign. I take it your to be my guide to CIC?"

"Aye, sir. Right this way," she affirmed, gesturing before taking the lead through the bustling pre-jump corridors of the escort Battlestar. Used to the huge size of _Ranger_, it seemed to take no time at all to reach the ship's nerve center, passing through the sliding doors into a miniaturized version of the standard CIC configuration.

Crew acknowledging her entrance by rising to their feet, Emily was approached by the ship's commanding officer, Commander Joseph Troy, whom she shook hands with as equals.

"Welcome aboard, Commander. You're just in time; the Queen Mother's _Star Home_ just transmitted the three-minute countdown to the jump."

Emily nodded, looking up at the assemblage of ships filling the DRADIS screen. They would be traveling in quite the armada: There were twelve Battle Dragons and roughly twice that number of _Nova_-class cruisers arrayed about the Queen Mother's space-borne palace.

The countdown clock neared zero and Clark returned her gaze to the vessel's skipper, "She's your ship, Commander. Give the order."

Taking this show of respect artfully in stride, Troy inclined his head in thanks before turning to his XO, "Commence FTL and jump on the mark."

Emily steadied herself on the central console as the room receded upon her and the ship jolted as it made the jump past lightspeed, closing her eyes as she left her own ship behind to face her first mission truly alone.

**Battlestar **_**Gladiator**_**, BS-152. Admiral Wilcomb's Flagship.**

Amid the three Battle Groups in the Fifth Fleet's first strike force, a raptor bearing Vice Admiral Benjamin Stratis, bedecked in his freshly-pressed dress uniform, swept aboard his superior's _Terra_-class, a ship exceedingly familiar to his old _Spartan_, a loss that was still fresh in his memory.

Upon landing, Stratis was immediately bustled to the flag-quarters. Comfortably furnished and dimly lit as per the occupant's preference, he was met by the sixty-eight year old Admiral in the suite's front room.

Aware of the need for a good first-impression, Stratis snapped up a crisp salute, holding it until Wilcomb returned and dropped his own. The one-eyed and gruff old soldier, cigar clamped in his teeth, gestured wordlessly for Ben to take a seat before his desk. Using a clearly strained undertone, Wilcomb spoke first, "So, I understand we're being deployed into action? Mind telling me why this whole mess is any of our business?"

Just as he had suspected, Wilcomb was brief and to the point. "Sir, I acted under a strenuous situation with all available intelligence at the time. That intelligence indicated that the legal government that I was supposed to negotiate an alliance with was under attack and vastly outnumbered by rebel forces enacting a military _coup d'etat _against the civilian government. Armed with this knowledge, I decided to intervene. The responsibility is mine and mine alone. I accept it and stand by my choice. What kind of allies would we be if we had just blithely stood aside and just allied ourselves with the victor? Frankly, sir, I would not have us become allies of opportunity."

"Damn it all, Stratis! Don't you realize you've put us at war on two fronts and cost Colonial lives already with doubtless more to come?!" the disgruntled Admiral exploded, dropping his pretense of calm civility.

Stratis looked down at his lap. "I understand that, sir," he said quietly before raising his eyes to meet Wilcomb's, "If you want my resignation, sir, you can have it."

This seemed to deflate the old campaigner some as he slumped in his seat, "None of that, Stratis. I may not agree with you, but I've made a decision or two under duress of my own in my time. You have friends in the Admiralty in this circumstance, and their backing you in this. Beyond that, I need you; before our last jump, we got a message from Tolan informing us of the loss of Orion Fleet Headquarters. The Fifth was scattered by a large force from the GFFA and that's why this war now has the support of the civvy government. My three Battle Groups are all the Federation has in this region and I need all the ships and men I can get.

"You've got the strength of your convictions, Stratis, and you're willing to accept responsibility for your action and I can admire that. I know what you did at Concordia and I know a competent commander when I see one. Therefore, despite my personal…_disagreements_ with you, I'm giving you command of Battle Group Two."

Stunned by this sudden turnaround in demeanor, Stratis was speechless.

"Stop working your jaw and answer, man," Wilcomb said gravelly, but lacking any real animosity.

"Thank you, sir. I-I won't let you down."

"See to it you don't. I'm putting a lot of faith in you: Make sure it's not misplaced."

Ben nodded solemnly, "Yes, sir."

Wilcomb stubbed out his cigar before nodding as well, "Alright then." He reached down inside his desk and removing an Ambrosia bottle. Procuring two glasses, he poured and handed one to Stratis, "Have a drink before you go. If we're going to be comrades-in-arms, I won't have us part on bad terms." He raised his glass, "To letting the past be judged by the historians and to your success in the coming days."

Ben raised his own glass, "I'll drink to that. The same luck to you, Admiral."

Both downed their glasses in one gulp.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**, BS-82**

As Ben set foot on his own hanger deck, he immediately stopped short, noting something odd about the scene before him: Interspersed among the Vipers and their crews were a full squadron of X-wings, bearing Loyalist colors, being attended to by their own multi-species ground crews.

Ben shrugged his duffel off his shoulder and on to the ground as he set off in that direction, accosting the first of his crew he encountered. "What're all these birds doing on our deck?" he asked, more perplexed than angry.

The specialist snapped a brief salute, "Sorry, sir. Commander Clark and Colonel Reilly were contacted by General Bel Iblis while you were dirt-side and requested permission to mix forces. We took casualties in that Coroucant fight and they lost a lot of capitol ships there, so they offered us two squadrons of fighters to supplement our own. They accepted, obviously, so here they are."

Stratis could see the sense in that, "Fair enough. Take me to their CO."

"Aye, sir," the deck hand acknowledged before leading his commanding officer through the throng of bustling crewers as they readied their ships for action.

The specialist led him to a cluster of ground crew surrounding an extremely familiar figure. "Jaina?" he asked, almost not believing. "Jaina Solo?"

Hearing her name, she waved off the deck hands before turning to face him. "Oh, hey Ben," she said, continuing with her work. Noting his odd expression, she stopped and added, "Don't look so surprised. You didn't think I'd miss this party, did you?"

That got a laugh, "No I suppose not, I just didn't expect you to be on my ship."

"Yeah well, this squadron was without a CO and they wanted a volunteer to lead them off this ship so…here I am," she finished lamely.

"Here you are," Ben agreed. "Are your people ready for this fight we got coming?"

"You bet. Most of these guys have just been waiting to pay the traitors back for what they did at Coroucant," she replied with conviction.

"Good. That anger can be useful so long as you don't let it consume you- it makes you sloppy and gets you killed," he counseled the wisdom his previous commanders had left to him.

She bit her lip, eyes growing distant for a moment. "I know all about that," she finally said quietly, "it won't be a problem."

Ben nodded, really finding that he expected nothing less from her. "Alright. Well, I better get to CIC: Good luck and good hunting. See you on the other side."

"Thanks," she answered, favoring him with a quick smile, "may the Force be with you."

He locked eyes with her for a moment before nodding quickly and making for CIC.

Soon, he was standing at the central console below the DRARIS screens, his acting XO at his side. The chatter was minimal throughout the ship, everyone tense in anticipation of the coming fight.

Before very long, the speakers crackled and the silence was filled with Admiral Wilcomb's voice, "Attention, all commands: The enemy fleets, as predicted, have made their jump to Bilbringi. We are T-minus two to jump. Acknowledge and spool up FTLs."

Ben spoke, his voice pushing the crew into action. "Acknowledge the Admiral," he instructed, "Inform the other vessels in the battle group to jump on our mark."

The ship fairly hummed with activity now as the FTL was spooling up and the last preparations for combat were made. Reilly, in his unmistakable accent, returned to his side, "Ships stands ready to jump. The _Ranger_ is at your command."

"Thank you, Colonel." He took a deep breath- this was it, "Send the following to all ships: Battle Group Two, battle-ready. Commence jump."

The ships vanished from the DRADIS in quick succession until _Ranger _was the last of her Battle Group left. Then she too jumped away in a brilliant flash of light, hurtling towards what promised to be a fateful battle.

_Author's Note__: And I'll leave you there for now. I hope the wait was worth it between updates! This is one of the longest chapters I've written thus far and I would hate for it to have been a waste! Anyway, this is where the story picks up and the next chapters_ _promise plenty of action. You have my word! Well, that's about it, and please review!_

_Thanks for reading,_

_-The CAG_


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Battlestar **_**Galactica**_** or Star Wars**

**-Some ships or characters we may encounter belong to Wes Imlay or Steel Scale**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Loyalist Flagship **_**Peregrine**_**, Bilbringi**

Garm Bel Iblis clearly felt the halting of inertia as his ship dropped out of hyperspace at the appropriate coordinates. Flanked by a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser and a new _Minotaur_-class Cruiser, fresh from the shipyards, as well as a cluster of frigates and gunships, the _Peregrine_ arrowed towards the fight shaping up around the planets orbit. The two defending battle groups from the Eighth Fleet had fallen back to fight a desperate holding action around the immensely important orbital shipyards...and baited the Loyalist trap perfectly.

"Report," he called down to the officers in the crew pit, attempting to garner all possible intelligence before the battle proper commenced.

Looking up from a terminal at him, a Quarren officer responded, "Sensors show the rest of our armada forming up and taking their appropriate positions." She made a rather unbecoming face as further information arrived, "As we expected, the Fourth GFFA is spearheading the attack, but scanners aren't detecting the Ninth."

Now it was Bel Iblis' turn to frown, _'Where were they, then?' _He cursed in his native tongue before returning to Basic, "Well, we can bag the Fourth at least. Order all units to engage, giving priority to relieving the Yards. Keep an eye out for company, though."

The Loyalists' Interdictor cruisers powered up their gravity-well generators as the rest of the massive strike force closed in.

Responding to the new threat, more than half of the Fourth Fleet's ships performed a perfect about-face to face the oncoming Loyalist armada. The Fourth, widely recognized as one of the best fleets in the GFFA, was determined not to surrender without a fight.

The left wing of the GFFA force elected not to hold their positions, instead charging forwards to meet their attackers head-on. A _Centaur_-class battleship accompanied by a pair of _Imperial II_ Star Destroyers and a Mon Cal made a bee-line for _Peregrine_ and her escorts, clearly intending to punch through them to take out the Interdictors to their rear, thereby allowing their fleet to escape into hyperspace.

The _Minotaur _Cruiser, _Halberd_, got off the first shot, one of her long-range turbolasers lancing out towards the battleship's bridge, soon followed by a half-dozen more bolts before the GFFA ships closed the range and lit up the inky darkness with their regular batteries.

"Incoming starfighters!" announced one of the pit crewmen.

"Launch interceptors and warm up the quad batteries," Bel Iblis commanded, "Helm, take us towards the ImpStar on the right."

"Aye, sir," the human helmsman affirmed, "Adjusting course to point oh-three-eight."

"Come about on axis two-five and level out, on my command," he instructed, moving to stand next to the helmsman. The Star Destroyer, meanwhile, spotting the threat, shifted the fire of her forward batteries to target the Dreadnaught and she shuddered with repeated hits. "Steady on," he counseled, "Stand by all starboard batteries. Steady…steady…" the shields began to absorb an increasing number of hits as the distance between the ships lessened.

The helmsman showed increasing evidence of the strain as the two ships came ever closer to collision. "Sir…?" the man asked nervously.

"Now!" Bel Iblis cried, "Take her down to two-five!"

Manipulating his helm controls feverishly, the crewman did as instructed and the _Peregrine _jolted as it executed the sudden maneuver to slip beneath the Star Destroyer, whose belly was now exposed to Bel Iblis' broadside. "Fire!" he bellowed, "Fire all!"

The Dreadnaught's silent starboard guns open fire at once, energy beams raking the Star Destroyer's hull at point-blank range. The great warship immediately began venting air and bodies, flames belching from the gaping holes appearing in the hull as the shields collapsed.

The gunners never ceased fire, pouring bolt after bolt into the crippled Star Destroyer until it detonated in a brilliant flash, shock waves rocking the Dreadnaught as it came out of its maneuver, leaving its victim shrinking in its wake.

The crew cheered their first kill of the day as their victorious formation forged ahead, the Interdictors holding their positions to the rear. Unable to withdraw, surrounded, and facing superior forces, the GFFA ships were fast being corralled into a tight cluster about their flagship, forming a sort of last bastion. Nonplussed, Bel Iblis manipulated his forces to hammer their defense to pieces.

Meanwhile, on the left, Loyalist forces led by the _June_ flanked the attacking task force on the left, pouring a murderous fire into them as they attempted to array themselves to counter the threat. The fight degenerated into a slugging match as the two sides pounded each other, but Bel Iblis was paying little attention to that particular part of the battle, sensing opportunity elsewhere.

"Admiral Brishik, I need you to push through the center now!" he commed the din of battle in the background.

His own communication similarly affected by the sounds of combat, Brishik replied in brief, "Aye, sir."

Leaving _Peregrine _in the capable hands of her captain, Bel Iblis turned his full attention to the greater scheme of the battle and the offensive about to roll forward.

**Vessel Engagement Zone, Bilbringi**

In the void between where the two lines of capitol ships were slugging it out with one another, an observer with peeled eyes might discern a flurry of lights and flashes, engaged in a struggle impossibly small when compared to the titanic battle of the larger vessels, but no less deadly for those involved.

Within this mass of winking lights, Jaina Solo went into a graceful dive after finishing off her most recent adversary, her new Colonial wingmate staying tight on her flank.

"Sticks, Corsair. I got some new contacts on DRADIS coming in. Looks like some sort of fighter wing...wait…"

"What is it?" she asked, directing her own sensors towards the indicated region.

"They vanished. Wait a minute: There they are again!" He swore violently, obviously coming to the same conclusion Jaina was. "They're stealth birds!"

Jaina said a few choice words of her own: The enemy had gotten a hold of the StealthX schematics and altered them for regular pilots. "Alright Corsair, follow my lead." She switched to comm channel to the squadron band, "Beta and Charlie flights on me. We've got bandits inbound on _Ranger_, sector ten. Follow me and I'll feed you missile launch coordinates, acknowledge?"

She received a chorus of affirmatives in reply as the six remaining fighters, a mixed bag of Vipers, X-wings, and E-wings formed up to either side of her and her wingman. "Leader to squadron," she addressed them as they moved inbound, "here's the situation: We've got…" she stretched out with the force, "…eight cloaked fighter/bombers and we have to take 'em out. Your sensors will only get a fix on them for a few seconds at a time, so I'll guide you in. You gotta trust me on this, alright? Let's do it."

The responses of her squadron-mates slowly muting as she delved deeper into the Force to detect the presences of the enemy pilots, she began to call out strings of coordinates to her pilots before mentally timing their missile launches to coincide with the flight paths of the cloaked fighters.

"Red three, break right!" she ordered as she sensed one of the yet-distant stealth planes target him.

Red three instantly obeyed and was rewarded with continued life as a missile streaked right passed where he had been moments before. Her squadron's first salvo had reduced their number and gotten their attention, but now she faced the challenge of engaging the rest of them without having her unit torn to pieces.

A perplexing problem indeed.

**Loyalist Senate, Mon Calamari**

"…and as Chief of State, I swear to uphold those same values that our predecessors in the Rebellion for the Restoration of the Republic strove so mightily achieved. Though we face a terrible adversary, we will overcome as we have always done."

The cavernous hall was filled to the brim with a vast assemblage of Senators and their aides, all listening as newly-inaugurated Chief of State Tenel Ka Ta'Chume Djo gave her first speech in office.

"I know that the situation may appear grim, even hopeless, but I urge you not to bow to despair," Tenel Ka challenged, gripping the pulpit. "Even in the darkest moment, there is a ray of light and salvation to be had. Even now, our gallant fighting men and women wage a battle for that which they believe and to turn the tide of this war. Supplementing their ranks are new allies, emerging from the Unknown Regions and finding themselves thrust into a conflict not their own, but fought for the good of the Galaxy. As my first act in office, I have extended the alliance between the Hapes Consortium and the entity known as the Colonial Federation of Free Planets to the whole of the Loyalist Alliance.

"Their delegation stands behind me now, to be seen by all," she gestured grandly to Commander Emily Clark and her escort of Marines with her good hand. "Their forces already in the field, we can yet turn the tide of this conflict. My friends, stay true to your ideals and cling to the light. And with uncharacteristic emotion, she finished the address with a flourish, "Stand to each other, and I promise you: _We shall endure_!"

A rousing cheer rose from the crowd assembled in the hall, and indeed even drawn unbidden from viewers Galaxy-wide over the HoloNet.

Taking a deep breath and resuming her stoic demeanor, Tenel Ka stepped down from the speaker's stand towards her entourage. Suddenly she felt a familiar tingle within her, the hair on the back of her neck rising. Acting on instinct, she threw herself to the floor as a brilliant violet blaster bolt sizzled through the place where her head had been a moment before…

One of her Royal Guards wasn't so lucky, the blaster shot blazing through his abdomen, leaving a smoking hole six inches wide.

The hall was thrown from enthusiastic ovation to panicked pandemonium as Senators and representatives pushed as one mass towards the exits as a pair of other shots lanced from the upper tiers towards the platform.

Tenel Ka's lightsaber was in her hand in an instant to deflect the second shot aimed at her. Before she could take a step forward however, four members of her new Secret Service detail tackled her to the floor, one man's head disappearing in the path of the third violet bolt.

"Get off of me!" she commanded, pushing the bodyguards off of her to assume a defensive stance.

"Ma'am…" one of the men protested before she silenced him with a stern look.

Abruptly, the cluster yet on the platform was showered with glass as the vaulted widow ceiling was shattered with shaped charges, and repelling ropes snaked down from the ceiling and upper levels. They were soon covered in GFFA commandos and assassins rapidly descending to the floor, guns blazing away at the masses near the exits. Everywhere, beings toppled.

"I thought this place was secure!?" Tenel Ka demanded of her Secret Service head as she deflected another series of bolts.

"I-It was," the man stammered, clearly shocked, "There should have been no way for them to get on-planet, much less in position to overrun the Senate Hall!"

Tenel Ka snorted in disgust. The GFFA troopers were on the ground now, teams targeting the speaker stand, others the near-defenseless representatives.

There was a sudden rush of black from behind her and for a fleeting moment she thought the enemy had worked around to her rear, but she soon saw that this was not the case: Led by their commander, the eight Marines of the Colonial Honor Guard charged forward to intercept the advancing commandos, kinetic weapons mowing down the surprised commandos.

The four remaining members of her Hapan escort lay down covering fire for the exposed Marines as they pushed for the protection provided by the Senate seating while her bodyguard detail, pistols drawn, attempted to pull her to the rear.

"You gotta pull back, Chief!" one man urged, snapping off a flurry of shots towards the sniper positioned on the second level.

"I refuse to leave others to die in my stead," she insisted stubbornly.

"Come to you senses!" he demanded, wholly surprising her with his tone and vehemence, "If you die here, these people will have died for nothing. You have a duty to the living. You swore an oath, Madam Chief of State!" With that, he and his fellows grabbed her and hauled her back and through a tiny, concealed doorway leading to a safe-room. A female agent accompanied her inside, leaving the other two flanking the doorway. Their legs were the last thing she saw before the durasteel door slid shut.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**; Bilbringi Combat Zone**

"DRADIS contacts! Bandits dropping in on our rear, Admiral!" Thomas Reilly shouted as the DRADIS beeped accordingly, corroborating his intelligence.

"Frak!" Stratis swore, "Alert High Command. Bring the ship about!" In their position in reserve, his Battle Group had just become part of the front line.

"Aye, sir!"

The shipped shuddered violently as it took hits from behind, lights flickering ominously. "Fire in the engine room!" another crewer reported.

"Away damage control," he instructed as the ship lumbered about to bring her main batteries to bear. "Recall Grey to defend the ship. Get me a damn firing solution, Colonel!"

"We have a lock on one of the cruisers, Admiral!" the tactical officer reported, right on cue.

"Alright then: Give 'em a broadside, Mr. Hill!" He returned his gaze to the DRADIS screen as ship vibrated under the recoil of the guns and gripped the console ever tighter as a frightening realization dawned in his head- they were isolating the Interdictors and had traded ships, lives, and space for the chance. This had been a trap for the Loyalists all along.

"Get me Grace on the horn," he instructed.

The line crackled with static before a female voice cut through, "This is the CAG. Go ahead Actual."

"Listen up, Grace. I want you to take…blue and green squadrons and escort my bombers on their attack run. We gotta keep a corridor open so they can't trap the Interdictors. Otherwise this has all been for nothing. Copy?"

"I copy, Actual. Inform Albatross Four that we've got their back."

"Will do, Grace. _Ranger_ out." He turned to his XO. "Tom, I want you to follow the bombers in with _Ranger _and hold that corridor open. Signal the other commanders: We've been outmaneuvered: We have to pull back and reform to meet 'em or we're frakked."

**Mon Calamari**

Backed by a mixed team of Marines and Secret Service members, Emily crept up the stairwell to the upper tier, intent on removing the sniper that the assassins had placed there from the equation. Pausing at the door of one of the boxes, she held up a hand for silence, pressing her ear to the door. Within, she could discern the muffled sound of a clip being ejected and the soft _whumpf_ as a silenced rifle was fired.

She turned, nodding, to Corporal Kyle Hansen. "Charges," she whispered.

Off-duty wit stowed, he showed only a steely glint in his eyes, "Got it." From within his pack, he produced a pair of shaped charges which he applied to the door, setting the detonators. He waved them back as he produced the remote, the team taking cover around the corner.

Glancing around, a Hapan, Marine, and bodyguard each checked their respective weapons, prepared to exploit the breach. Nodding their readiness, Hansen gave the countdown. Three…two…one… His finger depressed the remote's trigger.

The detonation ripped through the hall way, pieces of debris flying past their cover. Smoke roiled past in its wake as the three-man entry team charged towards the door, being engulfed by and disappearing in its shroud. Seconds later, from within the room, the sound of gunfire reached her ears, and she set off through the smoke, the rest of her makeshift team on her heels. Before she could even reach the breach, however, a hoarse voice called back through the gloom: "Clear!"

On the floor of the box was the body of one of her Marines, just inches away from that of the GFFA sniper. Hansen took a moment to close the lids of the man's eyes before straightening and working the action of his rifle, perhaps with a bit more force than was required. "We ought to keep movin', sir."

Emily nodded, checking her own pistol and picking up the fallen Marine's assault rifle with some reverence, "This way." She led them back out into the stairwell and down towards the ground floor where the tiny force of Loyalist guards and Marines were still facing off with the invaders while simultaneously trying to protect the masses of unarmed or untrained civilians trapped within the sanctum with them.

By the time they reached the main level, it was clear the assassins knew their sniper-advantage had been neutralized, but they were far from ready to give up. In fact, with their main target gone and their mission a failure, they appeared to be trying to deal out as much damage as they possibly could. They weren't trying to get out of this alive. Intel had really done a number on these guys.

Peeking out the window at the base of the stairs, Emily could see the main group of commandos holding a line at the base of the delegation level, firing not only at combatants but indiscriminately into the cowering civvies as well. They were clearly protecting their extraction point, if they chose to use it. Immediately, a bold plan began to formulate.

"Alright, here's what we do: They've got everyone else pinned down, but if we time this right, we can rush them and catch 'em in a crossfire to roll up their entire line. When I give the signal, we charge in, firing a salvo of flash-bang and frag grenades to put them off-balance before we hit them -hard- and knock them off their feet. Got it?"

They did.

She nodded, checking her appropriated rifle and took a deep breath.

"Go."

**Vessel Engagement Zone, Bilbringi**

Jaina's mind was processing more information faster than she ever thought possible. She was juggling control of her own craft in a life-and-death dogfight, keeping her Force connection vibrant, and her pilots alive all at once. And she was beginning to feel the strain.

They had managed to down six of the eight stealth fighters, but the two that remained were wreaking havoc on her formation. It was clear that the two pilots were aces and no stranger to combat- together they had managed to isolate two of Jaina's wingmates and blast them before she could respond in kind. The strain upon her mind had been overwhelming and she had failed to foresee the enemy's attack until too late.

"Solo to squadron. Fall back and regroup. Leave these two to me, acknowledged?"

"Negative, lead. Repeat, NEGATIVE." That was her wingmate. "They've pounded it into our heads since Basic Flight: You don't abandon your wingmate!"

"This is a sithing exception, Corsair! All of you: Pull back!"

The others pulled back, but Corsair was still stubbornly clinging to her wing. She didn't know whether to be touched or annoyed. What she did know is she didn't have time to feel either. Or argue, for that matter.

"Space it," she hissed as she angled sharply port. "Alright, stay on me and don't deviate unless I tell you, got it?"

"Acknowledged. Call it!"

"Target bearing three-four-two mark one-five. Fire in five," she called out, simultaneously dropping into the kill slot of one of the fighters and firing. All of her shots missed, going off ever-so-slightly…

Until she rolled out of the way for her wingman, who fired a volley of shots that ripped into the GFFA fighter as it crossed through the precise spot she had herded it into.

Corsair crowed as he saw the foe he couldn't even see before light up in a ball of flame, almost not noticing as Jaina shot down the last one that was lining up for a shot at him, much to his surprise as another flash appeared less than a click to his starboard side. "Whoa!" he cried out, somewhat belatedly.

Jaina, finally relieved of the pressure, was too out of breath to comment, instead merely turning her fighters back to the main engagement, which she noticed was drifting alarmingly closer to the Battle Group.

Her companions on her wing, she pitched back in.

**Vessel Engagement Zone** **(Rear Echelon), Bilbringi**

Major Taylor Grey, leading her squadrons, formed up around Captain Isaac King's Albatross squadron as they made their attack run. Ahead, space was alight with crimson energy beams fired from the looming form of a _Calliban_-class heavy cruiser…currently maneuvering directly in their path. They had to open the escape vector back to the fleet or the Interdictor task force would be annihilated.

"Leader to strike force; broken formation, evasive. Don't let 'em get a lock, ladies and gents. High and low cover, keep enemy fighters off the bombers," she radioed tersely as she deftly manipulated the craft to avoid a stream of quad laser fire.

A series of comm clicks was all she got in return, her pilots too busy avoiding the tremendous amount of flak being arrayed against them…with varying amounts of success. She watched with forced dispassion as several of her comrades vanished in a flash of light, their comparatively fragile craft splintering as a beam of lethal energy impacted with them.

_'Gods, you could almost walk on the stuff!' _she thought as another bolt burned past her craft, far too close for comfort.

"Fighters, eight o'clock!" came the call over the wireless as the enemy fighters roared in to finish the job the quad batteries had done a fine job beginning.

"Alright, by the numbers! Green squadron, you're on intercept. Everyone else, lets get this done."

Yet again in silence, the assigned Vipers peeled off to do their job so that their comrades could do theirs. Continuing onwards, Blue squadron and Albatross One closed the range to begin their attack run. The enemy's fire, meanwhile, improved dramatically and Taylor could only watch in dismay as more of her pilots succumbed.

She fully opened her throttle in a desperate attempt to get under their web of fire, the rest of her fighters following suit. As they neared the hull and readied for launch, the cruiser's fire became more erratic as the quad batteries no longer interlocked. Grey's vanguard Vipers executed a four-way split as King and his first two bombers launched their heavy conventional ordinance, one catching an unlucky bolt from one of the ion cannon emplacements placed along their target, the ship's center axis. All six missiles, however, hit their target.

Upon impact, the sector shield collapsed, leaving the path clear for the next wave of bombers that drilled a trio of class-two, deep impact, nuclear missiles into the hull.

"Break, break, break!" Grace commed to her surviving pilots as they fought the gees to turn about and vector away from the ship…and not a moment too soon as the missiles detonated, breaking the mighty cruiser's back in a fantastic and blinding white-tinged blue flash. Blown clearly in half, the ship was ripped by secondary detonations as fuel and ordinance ignited. Only seven escape pods launched as the ship began to break up.

Immediately exploiting the cruiser's destruction, the Interdictor capitol squadron punched through to rejoin the fleet, though the safety this seemed to offer now seemed greatly diminished.

Leaving King and his Albatrosses to make their way back to _Ranger_, Grey led her remaining Vipers back to support Green squadron as they mopped up the rest of the cruiser's interceptor complement. The rest was up to the brass at the top. Great.

Taylor exhaled strongly. Way beyond her pay grade. Best just get back to work; her finger tightened once more on the trigger.

**Loyalist Flagship **_**Peregrine **_

Console flaring behind him, Bel Iblis pressed the headset to his ear, shouting into the mike, "Negative, stand by!" Lowering it long enough to wheel on his tactical officer, he demanded, "Have the Interdictors broken out yet?!"

The officer shouted something but it was lost in the din.

Bel Iblis grabbed the Calamarian's shoulder and jerked him closer so that he could hear.

"Yes, General," he wheezed, "Stratis' fighters managed to open a corridor."

Garm heaved a sigh of relief before brining the comm set back to his ear, "Begin jump prep. Pass the word to all commands!" With that he thrust the headset back to the comm officer to whom it belonged before continuing on his round of the bridge.

Tapping one man on the shoulder, he shouted instructions, "watch that frigate coming up on the port side. Detail batteries four through six to target it." Then, clapping the man on the shoulder, "Keep up the good work, son, you're doin' fine!"

He repeating this process over and over, fighting to maintain his footing as his old Katana dreadnaught took a pounding. Over and over in his mind ran the thought, _Keep it together, Old Girl, keep it together…_

The enemy's fire was intensifying now and Bel Iblis knew that the trap was closing and time was running out.

**Battlestar **_**Gladiator**_**, Colonial Flagship; Bilbringi Combat Zone**

"Acknowledge Bel Ibis' signal and spin up the FTL. Tell _Havoc_ actual to commence jump prep, boarders or no," Wilcomb ordered as the situation deteriorated around them.

"Aye, sir!" the ship's XO acknowledged before hurrying off to attend his other duties while Wilcomb himself approached the central console.

He glanced sideways as the commander of his first battle group, Tomas Chavez, came up next to you, "Might I remind you, sir, that both the _Taltex's _and _Kronos' _FTLs are off-line?"

"I know," Wilcomb grunted, "casualties of war. We stay, more kids die. That simple."

"We can't just leave them, Admiral!" Chavez practically shouted, "Why, if we could just push--"

Wilcomb fixed him with a steely gaze, silencing him, "I understand your concerns, Chavez, but this has become a numbers game. We are outnumbered and under attack from two sides. Battle Group Two is taking heavy casualties covering our asses and we will ALL die if we don't jump out of here. Now, go about your duties, Rear Admiral."

It was clear dismissal and Chavez left the command floor fuming. They were doing better than holding their own here! One push forward and they could buy their comrades the time they needed to get their jump drives back on-line and that fool of an admiral--

He never finished the thought as a tremendous explosion shook the ship and the lights flashed out ship-wide, quickly to see CIC illuminated by a forceful secondary explosion near the main console, whose concussion forced Chavez to the ground.

When the lights returned, the command floor was in ruins, covered in debris and elucidated by flame. Chavez grabbed an extinguisher and joined in the efforts of several crewmen to suppress the fires before they could grow as the medics poured in to see to the wounded. Only as a shout rose from the other side of the charting table did Chavez recall that the Admiral had been on the command floor.

Rushing to the other side, he found old Wilcomb lying in a pool of his own blood, the clothes on his back burned off. The medic, never looking up from her work, reported the man alive, but only just, as she attempted to stabilize him.

Tomas only watched as a litter was brought in and Wilcomb was trundled off to sickbay…leaving him in command.

As the CIC recovered and went back into operation, he was approached by _Gladiator_'s exec, who cut through the haze in his mind as he reported the ship as t-minus two for jump.

Chavez looked at him sharply, his mind recalling his own objections to the order. "Belay that," he commanded, "Stop the clock."

"But sir," the man protested, "The Admiral wanted us to –''

"I'm in command now and we have a chance to save those boys on the _Kronos _and_ Taltex_ and we're going to take it, by God! So stop the clock! Stratis," he said the name with some distaste, "can hold where he is. I want the rest of the task force to push forward- we're gonna buy them some time." He did not think much of Benjamin Stratis based on what he had heard during Coroucant debacle, especially after having encountered the man a few times at War College in the past, but he had more pressing issues to worry about.

He looked over and saw the XO hesitating to obey and turned his full fury on the man to make remedy.

**Loyalist Flagship **_**Peregrine**_

Bel Iblis watched the status screens as the acknowledgments of his jump order came through as the minutes simultaneously ticked away. They had gambled and lost this round, but they would live on to fight another day, if the Force was with them.

Finally, only one key element of his force had failed to confirm the jump order: The Colonials. With under a minute left on the clock and unwilling to abandon so great a portion of his fleet, Bel Iblis angrily cancelled the order and ordered his comm officer to hail their flagship.

There was no response.

**Battlestar **_**Ranger**_**; Bilbringi Combat Zone**

Ben grunted as the impact of another energy beam shook the ship, knocking him into a console as he made the rounds of CIC. "Detail the _Harrier _to advance to alpha zero-zero-seven mark three degrees to cover the rear of the Interdictors," he commanded, pushing himself back up and returning to his charge.

He was then surprised as he was handed a transmission transcript from the flagship: All commands prepare to jump. Stratis breathed a sigh of relief and waited for confirmation from Wilcomb…only to see Bel Iblis' order cancelled by the Colonial command authority.

"Get me Wilcomb on the line now!" he demanded, crumpling the second sheet. This fight was getting a little too sporty for his tastes and retreat was the only sensible alternative.

Moments later an aide handed him a headset which he donned and to inform his commanding officer of his presence.

"What the hell do you want, Stratis?!" an vaguely familiar voice demanded without preamble.

"Where's Wilcomb?" Stratis snapped in return.

There was a pause and Stratis felt a touch of dread building, "The Admiral's down- he's been wounded. This is Rear Admiral Chavez and I've assumed command of Colonial forces, Stratis. Now, Report!' he bellowed.

Chavez. He had met the man on one notable occasion at War College and knew the man looked upon him with disfavor. Biting back a curse, Stratis gritted his teeth and forged ahead: The man _had_ seniority. "Sir, Interdictor squadron secure, but they're tightening the noose! We've got the jump order from _Peregrine_, sir. They're waiting on us!"

"Damn it all, Stratis, tell me something I don't know! _Havoc _has been boarded and two other ships report loss of jump drives. You need to hold your ground and buy us some time!"

"I'm trying to tell you, sir that we CANNOT hold the line back here and the last elements of the enemy fleet are jumping in! They're bound to have Interdictors and, may I remind you sir, Loyalist jump drives cannot jump in a gravity well! We're condemning them as well the longer we delay!"

"Frak! Stratis…do your job, soldier! Stand by to recover your birds upon command. Until then, we do not jump! Out," the line abruptly went dead.

Stratis swore violently and threw the headset to the ground. His battle group was the reserve force and thus the only major Loyalist force in the rear echelon and it was currently being shot to pieces trying to cover Chavez's ass! And he was telling him to stand by and wait?!

"Frak protocol," he muttered and went directly to the comm station and established a direct link to _Peregrine_, answered instantly by one of the crewers, albeit in a harried manner. With little persuasion, however, he was connected to an equally harried Bel Iblis.

"General, we have a problem. Chavez has not confirmed the jump order- I believe he is unaware of the severity of the situation back here. I beg you, sir, talk with him or we'll be wiped out!"

"Chavez?" Bel Iblis asked, clearly surprised. "What happened to Wilcomb?!"

"Wounded, sir. General, we need to jump and soon- you need to talk to him!"

Stratis could hear the irritation in his voice, "I've been trying! He's not responding to our hails. We can't take much more of this!"

Stratis scowled; Chavez was no longer coordinating with his Loyalist allies, Ben realized, a fact that had dire implications for them all.

"Yes sir," he replied, making his decision with that idea in mind, "What are your orders?"

There was a prolonged pause as Bel Iblis realized what Stratis was doing, "You know this could be construed as mutiny." It was not a question.

"Yes sir," he said simply, knowing full well.

"Very well. Then you are to contact your fellow commanders and order them to jump. For all those that give you trouble, inform them that this order comes from Fleet Command and that the Loyalist flotilla will jump with or without them."

"Sir." he replied grimly, "_Ranger _actual out," he placed the phone heavily down upon the receiver. He turned to his attendant officers, "Re-start the clock."

There was some hesitation as the men went to carry out his orders, but Stratis knew they would do their jobs. He contacted the commander of Third Battle Group and was answered instantly.

"What?" was Admiral Quentin's curt response.

"I am relieving Rear Admiral Chavez from command authority, superseding him, and ordering a jump of the entire task force," he informed the man coolly and without preamble.

Quentin's voice was deathly cool when he answered, "You know what you're doing, right? You do this, there's no turning back."

"I understand: I'm committed. I'm following the orders of the Loyalist Fleet overall commander, General Garm Bel Iblis. He gave a direct order to jump to the entire fleet and that order has been ignored by Rear Admiral Chavez. His orders, no matter how nobly intended, are costing too many lives and putting this entire fleet in jeopardy, not just his own command. I will not spend lives on the whim of my commander's folly. The rest of the fleet jumps in exactly two minutes and my forces will be jumping with them. I suggest you prevail on the Admiral to order the jump and do the same yourself."

The line was silent a moment, "Very well, Admiral Stratis. I will contact the acting Flag Admiral and order my own units to prepare to jump as well. You do realize, however, that by professing your determination to jump away contrary to Chavez's orders you will likely be charged with committing mutiny, coercion of an officer, and desertion under fire."

Once again, Stratis answered without hesitation, "Yes; and so be it." He hung up the phone.

His orders conveyed and perhaps his death sentence issued, Stratis made for the central CIC console…and made it there just in time to see the Battlestar _Gibraltar_ vanish from the DRADIS screen. The five minute jump alert had been given nearly fifteen minutes before.

**Mon Calamari**

The door slid open with a soft _whoosh _and her team pounded through, grenades flying before them. More than half the team had cleared the doorjamb before the GFFA men were even aware and Emily's troops had those precious moments to enfilade their line. More than half of the surviving assassins were burned down by blaster bolts or shredded by high-velocity kinetic fire.

The remaining six fell back quickly towards the last door, keeping a continual suppressing fire upon the defenders.

Emily took careful aim with her carbine and squeezed off a trio of shots, being rewarded as one of them punched through one of the trooper's legs, slowing the withdrawal towards what was clearly their sole extraction point as one of his comrades was forced to drag the now-immobile man along with them.

By a mutual decision, conveyed solely through glances and hand signals, Emily and her final three Marines decided that they mustn't be allowed to escape and rushing them was the only way to stop them.

The fingers on Hansen's hand dropped and Emily's grip tightened on her weapon; three…two…now! "Go, go, go!" Hansen shouted, coming out of his crouch with rifle leveled.

As one, they rose, spraying the retreating, but exposed, group with bullets as they charged up the stairs. Three of the five combat-effective enemy troopers were blasted off their feet almost instantly. The one pulling his the wounded man sprayed the Colonials with un-aimed energy bolts, weapon in his free hand, when the Colonel heard Hansen grunt as he was swept from his feet. The other Marines' guns were already traversing, however, and the final two effectives went down in a hail of lead.

Sprinting up the final steps, the lead Marine reached the top fast enough to bring a gauntlet down on the wounded man's face, knocking him out cold and thus securing their sole prisoner of the day. Every other GFFA soldier had been killed or committed suicide through the course of the action.

"Clear," a Marine reported having disarmed and checked the pulses of their slain adversaries.

She nodded, "Alright, clear those doors and get the medics in here." Looking about the room at the floor's thick coating of dead and wounded, the tile slick with blood, she knew they couldn't come too soon.

**Vessel Engagement Zone, Bilbringi**

Jaina Solo received the recall order not a moment too soon. The Loyalist fighter screen was being pushed to the limit and had several time come within a hairsbreadth of being overrun. The fleet was supposed to have jumped nearly twenty minutes before, but they had failed to receive any recall order preceding such an action and the fleet itself had continued to take a pounding from a numerically superior force without any change.

The dwindling company that was what remained of her fellow pilots fleeing with her, she pushed her engines to maximum as she streaked towards the comforting bulk of _Ranger_, to touch down in one of her cavernous landing bays. They had lost this one, but they would soon be ready to fight again. She only hesitated to think of those who would not be coming home today.

**Mon Calamari**

Accompanied by a single Marine, Emily was ushered in to the Chief of State's emergency bunker by one of the Senatorial soldiers who stood guard at the blast door of the chamber.

Within, seated on a comfortable-looking chair but appearing ill at ease, was Chief of State and Queen Mother Tenel Ka Djo, surrounded by a cluster of advisors and guards. She rose as Emily approached and extended her good hand to her, stepping forward to meet the Colonial woman, "Commander Clark, we are deeply indebted to you and your men for their actions this day. Were it not for their courage, many more would have been killed."

There was a genuine look of thanks upon the woman's face, a sincerity in her gray eyes, that Emily could not help but return as she shook the proffered hand, "Thank you, Madam Chief of State, but I assure you…" She trailed off as the look on Tenel Ka's face changed, darkening and creasing ever-so-slightly in worry.

"Your highness…" she began, "what's--"

She hadn't the chance to finish the question before the "senate guard" drew his blaster and fired twice.

Emily felt a flash of immense pain as the bolt took her in the middle of her back. She crumpled slowly to the floor, vaguely noting her escort falling beside her, his eyes already lifeless. Darkness encroached on her vision as she watched the gunman advance, gun fixed on Tenel Ka…then her world went black and she knew no more.

------

Millions of light-years away, the Loyalist fleet jumped from Bilbringi in what seemed to be one tremendous flash as hundreds of ships went to lightspeed at once. Behind them, they left dozens of burned-out hulks, EV pilots, and two intact Battlestars, now left with no choice but to offer their surrender to GFFA forces.

From his personal GAG Star Destroyer, the _Crimson Villicus_, a man cloaked in shadow looked on in satisfaction; the shipyards of Bilbringi were his and he had dealt a decisive defeat on the battlefield to his adversaries. The only thing that had stopped his complete victory over the Loyalists was the slowness of his Interdictor cruisers, but no matter: He would deal with them -and his foes- soon enough.

_Authors Note__: Well, there you have it, in its seventeen page glory. I'm sorry the wait was so long, but I hope the added length and action make up for it! I pray you'll forgive this evil (and very doom saying) cliff-hanger, though!_

_I think I ought also note to you that a Colonial squadron is not the same as a standard squadron anywhere else. Viper squadrons are made up of TWENTY planes instead of twelve. Only Albatross formations retain the twelve-fighter assemblage. Once more, however, it appears that that mysterious mastermind of the entire uprising has thwarted Loyalist efforts. Fear not, loyal readers, his identity will soon be revealed!_

_I hope this installment met with your satisfaction and thanks for reading!_

_-The CAG_


	13. Author's Message

_Dear Readers,_

_Please accept my apologies for the long absence. Between senior year and starting college, I have had virtually no free time to sit down for a few hours and write anything. However, now that I am into the swing of life at University, I am going to try to get back into it a bit. I have, however, done some reading through of this story and decided that it needs work._

_I mean, overall, there are certain key elements of the plot that I want to adjust. I want to fix the story's foundation before I build any more on to it, do you know what I mean? For now, this story is getting re-vamped. I don't wish to abandon it, but I personally was not satisfied with it as it was._

_Comments or concerns? PLEASE message me- after all this time, I would love to hear from you._

_Thanks everyone!_

_-GalacticaCAG_


	14. Author's Message II

_Author's Note__: My dear readers, I have discontinued this story at this location. Having re-read it, I have decided to re-work Part II. It may be found at the following link:_

.net/s/6730946/1/Epic_Among_the_Stars_Aggressive_Negotiations

_I hope you all enjoy my revisions!_

_-The CAG_


End file.
